Chapter 5
A hush swallowed the bar’s clamor in an instant, every eye drawn to the entrance where dozens of soldiers in dark green stormed in, rifles gleaming under the lights. They parted like a disciplined tide, forming a corridor of steel and silence. The crowd stilled, breath held in awe.
A young man strode forth, his military garb crisp, posture unyielding as granite. Sharp features carved a visage both striking and severe, his presence a quiet command radiating chill menace. A seven-star medal gleamed on his shoulder—singular, a global emblem of unmatched valor. Javier Mendoza, the Barnett patriarch, a legend in flesh.
“Commissioner Barnett!” A patron bowed low, voice trembling with reverence, sparking a wave of bows rippling through the throng. Valeria and Dominic alone stood unmoved.
Her eyes widened, astonishment flaring. Javier—elusive titan of tales—had crossed her path only once, a distant figure at a family rite three years past. His arrival here defied expectation. His fleeting glance met hers, then slid away. “Take him away,” he ordered, voice a low thunder.
“At once, sir,” a soldier snapped, hauling Lorenzo—sprawled in terror—from the floor. “Mercy, Commissioner!” he wailed, quaking, but his pleas faded into the void as he was dragged off.
Patrons edged toward exits, fear a silent tide, leaving the bar a hollow shell, save for a few lingering souls. Dominic wiped sweat from his brow, stepping forth with forced bravado. “Uncle Javier, what brings you here?”
Javier’s brief look offered no answer; he advanced on Diego. “News of Egret?”
Diego shrank under that piercing stare, instinctively glancing at Valeria. Javier’s gaze shifted, probing. “You know something?” A memory flickered, narrowing his eyes. “We’ve met—Dominic’s wife?”
“Yes,” Valeria said, voice steady despite Dominic’s frantic signals to hush. “But we’re divorcing.”
“Divorcing?” Javier’s brow lifted, surprise etching his stoic mask—a shift Dominic dreaded, envisioning ruin.
“Uncle, ignore her,” Dominic cut in, irritation seething. “A petty spat—no grounds for divorce.”
Javier’s silence hung heavy, unreadable. Dominic pressed, “She’s an orphan, no ties—claiming Egret’s absurd, just spite to smear me. Don’t be fooled!”
“Valeria’s a schemer,” Natalia piled on. “Take her words lightly, Uncle.”
Adriana stoked the fire, voice honeyed. “Valeria, this is unwise—arguing with Dominic’s one thing, but causing a scene? Apologize to the Commissioner.”
“Hmm,” Valeria chuckled, unshaken. “I never said I knew Egret—yet you’re all so quick to accuse?”
Adriana faltered, casting Dominic a pitying look. He opened his mouth, but Javier’s icy tone sliced through. “I recall Valeria’s three years nursing you post-accident. Whatever your rift, this scorn—while you flaunt another woman—is baseless.”
Dominic shivered, muted by the rebuke. Javier softened toward Valeria. “Your care brought him back—a miracle. Maybe Egret’s linked. A friend’s comatose—I’ll pay any price for their aid.”
Her brow arched, amused. Javier’s wealth—befitting a global military titan—echoed Diego’s mystery bidder. Tempting, yet she balked at Barnett ties. “A hundred and fifty million,” she said after a pause. “I’ll arrange a meeting with Egret—no guarantee they’ll help.”
