Chapter 5: The Command Protocol
Before Fernando could find his voice to speak again, the heavy double doors of the executive office were thrown open with a violent, resounding echo.
The sharp American lawyer stepped through the threshold. He was a man in his early 30s, clean-shaven, with short, precisely styled hair. He wore a classic charcoal grey business suit paired with a modern grey tie. He moved with a swift, commanding pace, his leather dress shoes striking the hardwood floor with absolute authority.
He didn't look at Fernando. He walked directly between the couple, effectively severing the tension between them like a physical barrier.
In his hand, the lawyer carried a thick, black legal folder. With a calm, professional motion, he laid it open on the mahogany desk right next to Fernando’s forgotten glass of water.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Santillán,” the lawyer said, his tone exceptionally cool, authoritative, and entirely professional.
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Fernando blinked, his unhinged rage returning as he looked at the intruder. “Who the hell let you in here? Get out! This is a private matter!”
The lawyer didn't flinch. He adjusted the lapel of his charcoal suit with one hand, his expression remaining entirely unbothered. “I am here on behalf of your wife, sir. And unfortunately for you, this matter is no longer private. It is officially binding.”
