I was done with my "school" assignments, but they say you can't escape family. At the gate, I requested to see him. He had many guards, like the President. He had renovated the place, of course. It had a new mediaeval-modern kick, showing off his wealth. He liked the rich lifestyle. Even though I refused to be his little pet, he still paid my fees, rent, and everything I needed.
In his study room, he looked like a man in his prime—fifties, maybe. Broad shoulders, veins like topography, sweat glistening across skin that hadn't known decay in centuries. But Santiago Gomez was no man. He was a predator sculpted by time, a legacy built on survival and silent warfare. He didn't work out to stay fit—he did it to remind himself he could still break bones if he had to. That was my father. Immortal. Unshakable. More force of nature than flesh and blood. He paid my tuition, wired my rent, and called it parenting. And I let him—because fear gets complicated when it comes gift-wrapped in power.
"You're holding up well," I said, looking around.
"Ava, when you live over a century, you learn a few things." He smiled and hugged me. It was nice to feel loved, even if it was for a symbiotic relationship.
"Did you receive the deposit I sent to your bank?"
"Yes, and the assignment you sent."
"Good. What's the update?"
"It's interesting. He's showing early signs of his father's biological footprint."
"Yes! Sebastian forgot to get rid of his evidence. Question is, does he know he has a son?"
"I doubt it. He never talks about his dad, so I don't think he knows. But Dad, why is it important?"
"Well, my little Ava, we have a newbie problem. It's eating away at Sebastian's mind. The clans doubt his leadership. If we use this leverage, the Aetos can make the king of the Adamos kneel."
His excitement terrified me. What did I expect from Santiago Gomez? He was the most diverse man I knew.
Santiago's study room was a perfect blend of old and new. The mediaeval touches—dark wooden furniture, rich tapestries, and wrought iron fixtures—gave it a timeless feel, while the modern elements—sleek technology, minimalist art, and state-of-the-art equipment—spoke of his immense wealth and power. The room was dimly lit, creating an ambiance that was both intimidating and awe-inspiring.
"You know, Ava," Santiago continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "power isn't just about strength or dominance. It's about control. Control over information, over people, over events. And right now, we have the perfect opportunity to exert that control."
I nodded, absorbing his words. Santiago's manipulative nature was no secret, but his strategies were often brilliant and ruthless.
"So, what's the plan?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"We need to monitor his son closely. Find out his strengths, his weaknesses, and most importantly, his connections. If he truly is Sebastian's son, we can use him as leverage to destabilise Sebastian's position. The clans are already on edge; one push in the right direction could lead to a full-blown rebellion."
His words sent a chill down my spine. The thought of manipulating an innocent person for power didn't sit well with me, but I knew better than to voice my concerns. Santiago's plans were always meticulously crafted, and dissent was not tolerated.
"I'll handle it," I said, forcing a smile. "But we need to be careful. If Sebastian finds out we're onto him, it could backfire spectacularly."
"Leave that to me," Santiago said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Just focus on gathering the information we need. And remember, Ava, trust no one."
With that, our conversation ended, and I left his study, my mind racing with the implications of what we had discussed. Santiago's ambitions were boundless, and I was just a pawn in his game. But for now, I have a job to do.
As I walked out of the estate, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease. Santiago's words echoed in my mind: trust no one. In this world of shadows and secrets, it was the only way to survive.