The cleaning lady came in just to dust, but one look at the forbidden box made Madrid’s most feared man realize that he wasn’t going to lose just his fortune that night.
At ten o’clock on a Tuesday, the silence in the Valdés’s attic wasn’t silence. It was pressure. A thick, metallic weight that stuck to their throats and turned the air into a threat. Damián Valdés paced silently from one end of his office to the other. The Persian carpet muffled the sound of his Italian…
