Chapter 6 - The Night of the Raid
By 4:00 AM, the mansion in Lomas de Chapultepec was surrounded not just by Alejandro’s private guards, but by state prosecutors and federal agents.
Regina was sitting in the formal parlor, still pretending to be outraged, sipping a glass of water under the watchful eye of a female officer. She believed her high-powered attorneys would arrive shortly to dismiss the entire affair as a domestic dispute.
The front double doors swung open, and Alejandro walked in, flanked by the lead federal prosecutor, Federal District Attorney Marcos Alvarez.
Regina put her glass down and stood up, putting on her best aristocratic posture. "Alejandro, this theatrical display is absurd. You are making a massive mistake that will ruin your reputation in the business community. I am your wife!"
Attorney Alvarez stepped forward, opening a thick leather folder. "Regina Arriaga—formerly Regina Sandoval—you are under arrest for attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, illegal administration of controlled neurotoxins, and grand fraud."
Regina laughed nervously. "This is ridiculous! On whose word? A paranoid child and a illiterate nanny?"
"On the word of Mateo Estrada," Alvarez replied coldly.
Regina’s face instantly drained of all color. The arrogance vanished from her eyes, replaced by pure terror.
"We have seized Mr. Estrada's ledgers, the recorded phone calls where you explicitly discussed increasing the poison dosage to induce fatal cardiac arrest in your stepson, and the bank transfers from your offshore account," Alvarez continued. "Furthermore, forensic tests on the bottle recovered by Lucía Morales match the neurotoxin found in your private dressing room safe."
Regina looked frantically toward Alejandro. "Alejandro... please! He made me do it! I was in debt! Dangerous people were threatening me!"
Alejandro walked slowly toward her, stopping just inches away. His eyes were cold, hollow, and devoid of any affection he had once felt for her.
"You looked into my son’s eyes while he begged for his life," Alejandro said, his voice trembling with contained rage. "You watched him scream on the floor, clawing at his own skin, and you smiled. You are not a human being, Regina. You are a monster."
"Alejandro, please!" she sobbed, reaching out to touch his arm, but he stepped back, repulsed.
"Take her out of my house," Alejandro told the officers. "And ensure she never sees the light of day again."
The federal agents slapped heavy steel handcuffs onto Regina’s wrists. She began to scream, flailing and cursing as she was dragged down the marble staircase—the very staircase she had planned to rule as the sole mistress of the Arriaga fortune.
As the police cars drove away, their red and blue lights flashing against the glass walls of the mansion, a deep, heavy silence finally settled over the estate.
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Alejandro walked slowly up the stairs toward his son’s room. In the doorway, he saw Lucía sitting on a small wooden chair, holding Emiliano’s hand as the boy slept peacefully, his breathing deep and steady for the first time in weeks.
Alejandro stood in the threshold, watching them. The dark storm had passed, but the long road to healing had just begun.
