Chapter 2 - Whispers and Keys
The surrounding guests began to murmur, the ripples of their whispers spreading across the opulent room. While some of the elite shared Julián's elitist mindset, many others felt a deep, uncomfortable wave of shame for the cruel treatment the old man was receiving. They knew who Ernesto was; they had seen him driving Don Alejandro to thousands of board meetings, gala dinners, and private airports over the decades. To treat him like an unwanted stray on the day of his master's funeral felt deeply dishonorable.
Don Ernesto took a deep, steadying breath, refusing to let his anger override his dignity. He knew who he was, and more importantly, he knew what he carried. In his weathered hands, besides the cap, he was holding an old, heavy ring of keys and a thick, carefully sealed manila envelope. The envelope looked ordinary, but it bore a wax seal that Don Alejandro used only for his most private matters.
“I drove him home on his very last night,” Ernesto said, his voice regaining a strange, quiet strength that made Julián pause. “He was weak, but his mind was perfectly clear. He spoke of you, and he spoke of the past.”
Julián’s eyes darted down to the envelope and the keys. A sudden wave of suspicion and greed washed over him. As the eldest son, he believed everything his father owned belonged to him by birthright. He didn't like the idea of a servant holding onto anything that belonged to the late billionaire.
“Give me those keys,” the young heir demanded, extending his hand with supreme arrogance, his palm facing upward as if expecting immediate obedience. “Anything my father left in that car or in his office belongs to the family now. You have no right to hold onto his property.”
The old man looked at the extended hand, then looked directly into Julián’s eyes. For the first time, there was no submission in Ernesto's gaze. He slowly and firmly shook his head, pulling the envelope closer to his chest.
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“He asked me to bring this personally,” Don Ernesto replied, his voice unwavering. “He made me swear on my life that I would not hand it over to anyone until the proper moment. I intend to keep that promise, just as I kept every other promise I made to him.”
Enraged by the open defiance in front of all his high-society peers, Julián lunged forward, his fingers clawing at the air. He attempted to violently snatch the envelope from the old man’s grasp, completely abandoning the decorum expected at a funeral.
