Chapter 93. Rightfully Mine

Camila’s father paced the length of his opulent office, the polished leather of his shoes clicking sharply against the marble floor with every harried step. A sheen of perspiration glistened on his furrowed brow as he clutched the phone to his ear, his grip tightening with each word relayed to him. The vast office, lined with dark mahogany shelves and adorned with priceless art, felt suddenly confining, a gilded cage for a man who had never been bested.

“Are you absolutely certain?” he demanded through gritted teeth, the words barely escaping his tightly clenched jaw. His usually commanding tone wavered, betraying a hint of desperation.

“Mr. Martinez, I’ve checked and double-checked. The account has been drained—there’s nothing left,” the voice on the other end relayed, apologetic yet firm.

“Drained? Impossible!” He slammed his fist onto the dark mahogany des