Chapter 36 - The Shadowed Cell
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A hundred miles away, inside the cold concrete walls of a high-security prison in northern Spain, Alejandro Montes sat on the edge of his steel cot.
His clothes were worn, his hands calloused from prison labor, his sharp, arrogant demeanor completely crushed by two years behind bars.
A heavy iron door slid open with a loud screech. A guard stepped into the cell block.
"Montes! You have a visitor," the guard barked.
Alejandro frowned, surprised. "My lawyer? I told you, I don't have any money left for appeals."
"Not your lawyer," the guard said, gesturing with his nightstick. "Visitor in Booth 4."
Alejandro stood up slowly, wiping his hands on his pants, and walked down the long corridor toward the visiting room. He expected to see his father, or perhaps one of his former corrupt business associates.
He sat down behind the thick bulletproof glass window and picked up the plastic telephone receiver.
Sitting on the other side of the glass wasn't a lawyer.
It was a young man in his late twenties, wearing an expensive, dark tailored suit. He had dark hair, sharp features, and cold, calculating gray eyes.
"Who are you?" Alejandro asked through the phone, brow furrowed. "I don't know you."
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The young man smiled—a cold, terrifying expression that sent a shiver straight down Alejandro's spine.
"You don't know me, Alejandro," the stranger said softly into the receiver. "But we share the same blood."
