The room was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn against the afternoon sun. Dust motes floated lazily in the thin beams of light that managed to slip through the gaps, dancing like forgotten souls. A single lamp cast a weak glow over the cluttered desk, illuminating the face of the man who sat behind it.

Pablo Valdez leaned back in his leather chair, his fingers steepled, his expression cold and unreadable. His dark hair was streaked with gray, his eyes sharp and calculating. He was handsome in a harsh, predatory way made people uneasy, that made them want to look away but couldn’t.

Pablo asked, his voice flat and dead. "How much are you adding? By now, she should be unstable. She should be breaking. I’ve been patient long enough."

The woman standing across from him shifted uncomfortably. Clara’s face was lined with age and worry, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She wore a simple dress, her gray hair pinned back.

Clara said gently, her voice hesitant. "I add it twice a week. Any more, and she might—"

Pablo interrupted, his voice sharp with annoyance. "I told you. You need to add it daily. Every day. No exceptions. Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

Clara’s heart clenched. Her hands trembled slightly. "Dear, if I add it daily... he will be suspicious of me. He’s already cautious. He watches everything. Every move I make, every word I say. If I increase the dosage too quickly, he’ll notice something is wrong. He’ll start investigating. And if he finds out—"

Pablo’s voice was cold and dismissive. "I don’t care. Go back. Speed up the process. Make her worse. Faster. I need her unstable. I don’t care about the risks."

Clara took a small step forward. "But if he finds out, he will kill me. He will kill everyone. You know what he’s capable of. You’ve seen what he does to people who cross him."

Pablo waved his hand dismissively. "Then don’t get caught. Be smarter. Be more careful. You’ve been doing this for year. You should know how to hide it by now."

Clara shook her head slowly. "It’s not that simple. He’s not stupid. He notices things...Small things... A change in her behavior...a change in her health. He will connect the dots eventually."

Pablo said, his voice hardening. "Then make sure he doesn’t. That useless son of mine—Samuel—he’s worthless. He couldn’t even beat Leonardo. Freaking failure. I don’t care if he dies. I don’t care about any of them. All I care about is destroying Moretti’s."

Clara’s voice was soft, almost pleading. "Samuel is your son. He’s your blood. How can you say that?"

Pablo’s eyes narrowed. "Samuel is a disappointment. A failure. I gave him everything. I trained him, I molded him. And what did he do? He lost. He couldn’t even win against Leonardo. He couldn’t even take his woman. He failed me, Clara. He failed me completely."

Clara said, her voice rising slightly. "Because you pushed him too hard. You pushed him and pushed him until he broke. He never had a chance. He was never allowed to be his own person. He was always just a tool for your revenge."

Pablo slammed his hand on the desk. The sound echoed through the room. "Do not speak to me about my son! You don’t know anything! You don’t know what it’s like to have a rival like Moretti! You don’t know what it’s like to see everything you want slipping through your fingers!"

Clara flinched but didn’t back down. "I know what it’s like to watch you destroy yourself." She tried to push some sense into him.

Pablo stared at her, his chest heaving. His eyes were wild, his jaw tight, however he didn’t focus on her words. He seemed lost in his own madness.

Pablo muttered, his eyes growing distant. "Leonardo. He’s everything I wanted Samuel to be. Strong, Smart, and Ruthless. He has it all.. Power, wealth, respect. He’s the son I deserved. The son I should have had. If only he were my son. We could be unstoppable together. A powerhouse. A dynasty."

He touched his own face, his fingers tracing his jaw. "Lina should have chosen me. I am handsome, powerful. I have everything she could want. But NO she chose THAT MAN. That—that ALESSANDRO. She chose him over me. She chose him."

His voice grew bitter, venomous. The words dripped with years of resentment and rejection. His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening.

Pablo asked, his voice low and dangerous. "Do you know what it’s like? To want something so badly and never be able to have it? To see someone else get everything you ever wanted? To watch them live the life you should have had?"

Clara’s voice was soft, a bit scared. "I know.. I k-now."

Pablo’s eyes snapped back to her. "You don’t know anything. You’ve never wanted anything the way I’ve wanted this. You’ve never had to fight for anything. You’ve never had to claw your way to the top."

He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He walked to the window and pulled back the curtain, staring out at the city below.

Pablo said, his voice low. "I’ve spent years planning this. Years. And I’m not going to stop now. Not when I’m so close."

Clara watched him. "And what happens when it’s over? What happens when you’ve destroyed moretti’s? What will you have left?"

Pablo was silent for a long moment. Then he said, "I’ll have peace. I’ll have satisfaction. I’ll have finally won."

Clara shook her head slowly. "You won’t have peace. You’ll have nothing. You’ll have destroyed yourself and everyone around you."

Pablo turned to face her, his eyes cold. "Then so be it."

Clara opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She had learned long ago that arguing with him was pointless. His obsession had consumed him, twisted him into something she barely recognized.

She thought about Samuel. Her grandson. He had been ruined too, turned into a monster by his father’s twisted expectations. He had never stood a chance. From the moment he was born, he had been molded into a weapon, a tool for his father’s revenge.

But she hoped that after he died, he could find some peace. Some escape from the nightmare his father had created. Some freedom from the chains that had bound him since birth.

Pablo’s eyes snapped back to her. "Go," he said. "Do your job. And don’t fail me again."

Clara nodded silently and turned to leave.

As she walked out of the room, she felt his gaze on her back.