Chapter 27

The Black Vault.

The base was never marked on any map. It existed beneath layers of concrete and stone, buried so deep under the city that even sound seemed afraid to travel there. No windows. No clocks. No sense of time. Only darkness shaped into corridors, rooms, and silence that listened. Zavier sat at the center of it all. A single overhead light cut down from the ceiling like a blade, illuminating the long obsidian table before him.

Everything else dissolved into shadow. The walls were matte black, absorbing light rather than reflecting it, as if the room itself had been trained to hide secrets. Screens hovered faintly along one side- financial ledgers, offshore accounts, shipment routes, debts owed and debts forgiven. Most names were crossed out.

Those were the lucky ones.

Zavier leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, dark gray eyes half-lidded as if bored. His suit was immaculate- tailored black on black, no tie, collar open just enough to suggest ease rather than carelessness. He looked like a man attending a quiet meeting, not the heart of an empire built on fear. Around the table stood six men.

None of them spoke unless spoken to. None of them met his eyes.

Niccolo stood closest, tablet held against his chest, posture straight but tense. He had learned painfully that Zavier's silences were more dangerous than his rage. Zavier tapped one finger against the table.

Once. The sound echoed far longer than it should have.

"Dime, ¿por qué me faltan tres millones de dólares?" he asked calmly.

(Translation: Tell me, why I am missing three million dollars.)

No one answered immediately. Zavier tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something only he could hear. His dark gray cold eyes trained on those men like a lion looking at its prey.

"No me gusta repetirme." he added.

Niccolo cleared his throat, he began carefully.

(Translation: I don't enjoy repeating myself.)

"Señor, los fondos se prestaron hace siete años a un particular. No a una organización. No a una familia. A un hombre." He started. Zavier's gaze sharpened- subtle, precise.

(Translation: Sir, the funds were lent seven years ago to a private individual. Not an organization. Not a family. A man.)

"Ya se ha cometido un error." he murmured. Niccolo swallowed and continued.

(Translation: A mistake already.)

"Su nombre es Mateo Dukes, tiene alrededor de treinta y cuatro años y su profesión es poco fiable. Tiene un historial de deudas de juego en tres estados. Pidió prestada la cantidad con la garantía de que la devolvería en un plazo de cuatro años, con intereses." He stopped, sweating.

(Translation: His name is Mateo Dukes, age around thirty-four and profession- unreliable. History of gambling debts across three states. He borrowed the amount under the guarantee of repayment within four years, with interest.)

"¿Y?" Zavier asked, quirking his brow.

(Translation: And?)

"Y pagó, durante los dos primeros años. Puntualmente. A veces incluso por adelantado." Niccolo said quickly. Zavier's finger stopped tapping.

(Translation: And he paid, for the first two years. On time. Sometimes early.)

"¿Entonces?" He asked. He was getting irritated with the passing time due to Niccolo cutting his sentences.

(Translation: Then?)

"Desapareció. No hay rastro de él. Su familia sigue viviendo en su apartamento, pero no han visto a Mateo en meses." Niccolo informed. Zavier exhaled slowly through his nose. Disappearing was a privilege. One he did not give lightly.

(Translation: He disappeared. No trace of him. His family is still living in their apartment but they haven't seen Mateo for months.)

"¿Adónde fue a parar el dinero?" Zavier asked.

Niccolo hesitated. Zavier noticed.

(Translation: Where did the money go?)

"Respóndeme rápidamente." Zavier warned him. Niccolo straightened.

(Translation: Answer me quickly.)

"Casinos. Mesas clandestinas. Juegos de alto riesgo. Lo perdió todo. Incluso lo que no era suyo." Niccolo completed. Zavier leaned forward now, elbows resting on the table. His face remained calm, but the air changed-thickened, tightened.

(Translation: Casinos. Underground tables. High-risk games. He lost everything. Including what wasn't his.)

"Y sin embargo, todavía sigue respirando." Zavier said, voice low as if amused by the sudden found information.

(Translation: And yet, he is still breathing.)

"Sí, señor" Niccolo agreed though scared. Silence returned. Zavier closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they were colder.

(Translation: Yes, sir.)

"Daisy Dukes." he said suddenly. Niccolo blinked.

"Señor" He asked in confusion.

(Translation: Sir?)

"Di el nombre." Zavier ordered.

(Translation: Say the name.)

"Daisy Dukes." Niccolo repeated, uncertain.

Zavier nodded slowly.

"Trabaja en mi casa, en la finca. Desde que me convertí en líder de la mafia en México. Desde antes de todo. Cocinaba.

Nadie la interrumpía. Limpiaba. Nunca robó. Nunca hablaba a menos que le hablaran. Olía a jabón y a flores marchitas. Solía dejarme caramelos en el cajón de la cocina como si fuera un niño pequeño." he said, no one interrupted.

(Translation: She works in my house, in the estate. Since I started as a mafia leader of Mexico. Before everything. She cooked

No one interrupted. Cleaned. Never stole. Never spoke unless spoken to. She smelled like soap and old flowers. She used to leave candies in the kitchen drawer for the me like I'm some fucking kid.)

"Ella tenía un hijo.." he continued. A pause.

Niccolo’s grip tightened on the tablet.

(Translation: She had one son.)

"Sí, Mateo Dukes." he said quietly. Zavier smiled. Not warmly but maniacally.

(Translation: Yes, Mateo Dukes.)

"Qué curioso, que la única muestra de bondad que jamás toleré bajo mi techo haya dado como resultado un hombre lo suficientemente tonto como para apostar con mi dinero." he murmured.

(Translation: How interesting, that the only kindness I ever tolerated under my roof raised a man foolish enough to gamble with my money.)

The men shifted subtly. Not fear but anticipation. Zavier stood. The chair scraped softly against the floor as he rose, tall and unhurried. He walked away from the table, boots silent against the stone, stopping before one of the screens. With a flick of his hand, it changed- surveillance photos, grainy but clear enough. Mateo Dukes. Laughing at a table. Drunk. Unaware.

"¿Sabe él que su madre cree que su hijo es un buen hombre?" Zavier asked without turning. Niccolo hesitated again.

(Translation: Does he know that his mother believes her son is a good man?)

"No, señor." Niccolo replied. Zavier closed his eyes for a fraction of a second. He smirked. It was evil. Almost venomous.

(Translation: No, sir.)

"Qué predecible." he said. He turned back toward the men.

(Translation: How predictable.)

"Le di cobijo a esa mujer cuando no tenía ninguna obligación de hacerlo. Le pagué lo justo. Le permití a su hijo sentarse a mi mesa cuando debería haberle roto los dedos por tocarla." he said. His eyes hardened.

(Translation: I gave that woman shelter when I did not need to. I paid her fairly. I allowed her son access to my table when I should have broken his fingers for touching it.)

"Y así es como la gratitud me recompensa." He snapped. One of the men, Luca- shifted his weight nervously.

(Translation: And this is how gratitude repays me.)

"Señor, ¿quiere que recuperemos el dinero directamente?" he said carefully. Zavier looked at him. Really looked. Luca froze.

(Translation: Sir, do you want us to retrieve the money directly?)

"El dinero es reemplazable." Zavier said slowly. He walked back to the table and rested both palms against it, leaning forward slightly.

(Translation: Money is replaceable.)

"El miedo no existe." he continued. No one breathed.

(Translation: Fear is not.)

"No quiero que muera, quiero que despierte." Zavier said. Niccolo looked up sharply. He straightened.

(Translation: I don't want him dead, I want him awake.)

"Tráeme algo. Algo que le recuerde quién es el dueño del tiempo." he ordered calmly. The men waited. His gaze flicked to Niccolo.

(Translation: Bring me something. Something that reminds him who owns time.)

"Algo personal. Alguien de su familia que sea cercano a él." Zavier continued. Understanding dawned in Niccolo's eyes.

(Translation: Something personal. Someone from his family who's close to him.)

"Te refieres a---" before Niccolo could say anything Zavier cut him off coldly.

(Translation: You mean---)

"Quiero decir que los jugadores entienden lo que es perder solo cuando les duele." Zavier said with a knowing look in his eyes. He turned back toward the darkness beyond the light.

(Translation: I mean that gamblers understand loss only when it hurts.)

"¿Tiene algún otro familiar?" Zavier questioned knowing where to strike Mateo's nerve.

(Translation: Does he have someone else in his family?)

"¿Tiene esposa y una hija de tres años?" Niccolo informed him which made a smirk to appear on Zavier's lips.

(Translation: A wife and a three year old daughter.)

"¿A quién está más unido?" He looked blankly in front of him.

(Translation: To whom he is more close to?)

"Su hija." Niccolo replied short and curtly.

(Translation: His daughter.)

"Tráela." He said which made Niccolo's eyes widen a little.

(Translation: Bring her.)

"¿Señor? Es tan joven." Niccolo tried to resonate with Zavier to look at him coldly.

(Translation: Sir? She's so young.)

"No me importa. Tráiganla aquí. Cuando sus llantos lleguen a oídos de su querido papá, seguro que vendrá corriendo como un perro." Zavier said earning a nod from Niccolo.

(Translation: I don't care. Bring her here. When her cries would reach her dear daddy, he would surely come running here like a dog.)

"No toques a su madre." he added. The men nodded immediately.

(Translation: Do not touch his mother.)

"Y Niccolo." Zavier said, almost absentmindedly.

(Translation: And Niccolo.)

"Si, Señor." Niccolo immediately answered.

(Translation: Yes, sir.)

"Asegúrate de que Mateo Dukes sobreviva el tiempo suficiente para pagarme hasta el último centavo." He said with a cold fury in his eyes. Niccolo bowed his head.

(Translation: Make sure Mateo Dukes survives long enough to pay me back. Every cent.)

"Se hará." Niccolo assured him.

(Translation: It will be done.)

Zavier returned to his seat, the overhead light catching the sharp lines of his face once more. As the men turned to leave, his voice stopped them.

"Ah, y dile algo de mi parte." he added casually. They waited. Zavier smirked faintly.

(Translation: Oh, and tell him something from me.)

"Dile que la bondad de su madre le valió un poco de clemencia." He said taking a cigarette between his lips.

(Translation: Tell him his mother's kindness bought him a little bit of mercy.)

The doors closed behind them with a heavy, final sound. Zavier sat alone again in the dark. Waiting.

He sat on a plush seat comfortably thinking about the situations going on. Agustín was busy in his work as well as the search for that pregnant girl was slowed down because Agustín's hopes were crushing. He couldn't find her and all the wars happening between different clans were putting pressure on him. His clients trials and court hearings were also keeping him busy but he was trying his best to find her.

While Zavier who can easily find her in a snap had different plans. He didn't choose to waste his men in finding her but he decided to snatch her from Agustín as soon as he found her and if he didn't that means she isn't important to him anymore. Anyways the feelings for her were just started to awake in his heart but before it could fully develop she just vanished from him life changing those feelings into pure concern.

And Zavier knew it very well. He decided to not search for that girl anymore because if she would be important then Agustín would already find her and if not then wasn't of any use for him too. His eyes were on the Fernandez family too. The Triplett brothers were not doing anything big. They were just busy spending their life with Vanessa- so boring according to him.

Then he crushed the cigarette in the ashtray and stood up smoothing his coat. He decided to go back to his penthouse until his men brought either Mateo or his daughter to him but little did he know that this decision of him would bring something more than a man. It would bring something which would change his life upside down and make him what he wasn't at all.