The day began like every other inside the suffocating walls of the women's prison: metallic clangs, barked orders, and the faint stench of disinfectant lingering in the halls.
Ana Santiago had already begun to lose track of time. Days melted into one another, marked only by the occasional visit from Alejandro and the endless gossip passed between inmates.
But today was different.
A guard approached her cell with a thin smirk. "You've got visitors."
Ana's heart leapt. For a foolish second, she thought perhaps Alejandro had returned, or maybe even her younger sister, Clara, though she doubted Mariana would allow that.
Hope bloomed… but it quickly withered when she stepped into the visiting room.
Seated on the other side of the thick pane of glass were Mariana Ramos de Santiago and her daughter, Isabella Ramos.
Mariana's face was painted in perfect shades of elegance, her black hair tied neatly back, pearls glimmering against her throat. Isabella sat beside her, younger, her beauty fresher but tinged with a cruel sharpness that mirrored her mother's.
Both wore smiles that weren't smiles at all, wolves dressed in silk.
Ana's stomach twisted. "Why are you here?" she asked coldly, taking her seat.
Mariana leaned forward, resting her manicured hands on the table. "We came to check on you, querida. After all, family must stick together in times of… difficulty."
Ana's nails dug into her palms. "Family? You framed me. You stood in that courtroom and painted me as a monster."
Isabella tilted her head, her voice sugary sweet. "Don't be so dramatic, hermana. We simply told the truth. If the world believed it, well… perhaps that says more about you than us."
Ana's chest heaved with rage. She wanted to scream, to leap across the table, to claw away their smug expressions, but the guards stood close, and she knew better.
Mariana's smile sharpened. "You should know, the company is thriving. Santiago Corporation / Empire is now under our capable leadership. Investors have placed their faith in me. Your father's legacy… is safe with us."
Ana's throat tightened. "Safe? Or stolen?"
"Details, darling," Mariana purred. "The world sees me as the grieving widow stepping in to protect her late husband's empire. You? You're just the ungrateful daughter accused of murdering her own father. History has already chosen its side."
Isabella leaned closer to the glass, her eyes glittering with triumph. "And Alejandro… don't think he'll wait forever. Men tire of broken women. He'll see reason eventually. Perhaps he already has."
Ana's breath hitched, pain slicing through her chest. "Stay away from him."
Isabella smirked. "Or what? You'll stop me? From in there?"
For a moment, silence thickened between them. The glass separated them physically, but Ana could feel their shadows pressing down on her, crushing her spirit.
Finally, Mariana rose, smoothing her dress. "I only came to remind you, Ana, fighting us is useless. Accept your fate. It'll be easier that way."
With a final poisonous smile, she swept out of the room, Isabella trailing behind her like a shadow.
Or rather, a puppet following it's master.
Back in the Yard
Ana stumbled back into the prison yard, her chest aching with rage and helplessness. She sat on a bench, staring at the gray sky, her hands trembling.
Angel appeared beside her, casual as always, tossing a pebble in her hand.
"Rough visit?"
Ana swallowed hard. "They came to gloat. They're in control of everything now, my father's company, the narrative, even Alejandro's loyalty. I have nothing left."
Angel snorted. "That's what they want you to believe. They came because you still scare them, niña. If you were no threat, they wouldn't waste their time."
Ana turned to her, incredulous. "How am I a threat from in here? They've ruined me. The world thinks I'm guilty."
Angel leaned back, her eyes narrowing. "Then it's time to start rewriting your story. You don't need the world yet. You just need one person, someone who can fight the system for you."
Ana frowned. "A lawyer? I already have one, but"
"No," Angel interrupted. "You need someone ruthless, someone who knows how dirty the game gets. Not someone from your family
Someone who owes me a favor."
Ana blinked. "Who?"
***
Enter Camila Torres
Later that afternoon, Angel approached the visitor's desk, her tone unusually respectful. Across from her sat a woman with intelligent brown eyes and dark hair pulled into a loose bun. She wore a navy suit that looked like it had seen too many battles in court.
"Camila Torres," Angel greeted, a rare softness in her voice. "I knew you wouldn't ignore me."
Camila sighed, adjusting her glasses. "I told you, Angel—I'm retiring. I want to spend time with my son, with Mateo. I've given enough years to this life. My last case nearly tore my family apart."
Angel's lips quirked. "And you won, didn't you? That's what you do. You win."
Camila's jaw tightened. "At a cost. I promised Mateo no more cases. No more nights away. No more danger."
Angel leaned forward, her eyes glinting. "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. This girl, Ana Santiago…she's innocent. They're setting her up. And if someone doesn't step in soon, she'll spend the rest of her life rotting in here for a crime she didn't commit."
Camila hesitated, her pen tapping against her notebook. "Ana Santiago? The Santiago Corporation heiress? That case is everywhere in the news. Half the city believes she killed her father."
"Then be the one to prove them wrong," Angel said sharply. "You owe me, Camila. Remember that night years ago? You'd be in a cell right now if I hadn't taken the fall for you."
Camila's face tightened with guilt. Her gaze flickered down to her wedding ring, her fingers twisting it slowly.
"I told myself I'd leave this world behind," she whispered.
Angel's voice softened. "One last case, amiga. One last fight. Do it for her. Do it for me."
***
That evening, Ana was summoned again to the visiting room. She entered cautiously, expecting more torment, but instead, she saw a stranger waiting for her.
"Señorita Santiago?" the woman asked, her voice firm yet kind.
Ana nodded warily.
"I'm Camila Torres. I'm a lawyer. Angel asked me to meet you."
Ana's eyes widened. "Angel? She sent you?"
Camila smiled faintly. "She can be persuasive. She believes you're innocent. And… I'm inclined to agree.
I've reviewed some of the public documents on your case. There are holes. Big ones."
Ana's chest tightened with a rush of desperate hope. "You'll help me?"
Camila hesitated. "I want to retire. My husband and son need me. But something tells me this case… it won't let me walk away. Not if I want to sleep at night."
Tears welled in Ana's eyes. "You're my only chance. Please. Help me prove I didn't kill my father."
Camila studied her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright, Ana. I'll take your case. But know this, if we go to war, we go all in. No half-measures. Are you ready for that?"
Ana straightened, fire burning in her chest for the first time since her father's death. "Yes. I'm ready."
Camila extended her hand through the small opening in the glass. Ana reached forward, clasping it tightly, her chains clinking as they touched.
For the first time in weeks, Ana felt the faintest spark of hope.
As Ana was escorted back to her cell, Camila gathered her notes, her sharp mind already racing. She paused, frowning as she noticed a shadow lingering outside the courthouse window.
A man in a tailored suit stood smoking, his face obscured. But when the ember of his cigarette lit, she caught the faint glint of a Santiago family crest on his ring.
Her pulse quickened.
Someone was watching.
And they already knew she was taking the case.
She took her phone from her bag and sent a voicemail, " I think I am in danger".