The ballroom shimmered like a dream dipped in blood and gold.
Valentina Cruz stood at the top of a grand staircase, no longer the girl from the slums, no longer just a survivor. She was legend-in-the-making now—wrapped in crimson silk, golden earrings shaped like daggers, and heels sharp enough to kill. Her hair flowed like ink down her back, her eyes scanning the crowd like a queen choosing which soul to crush first.
She had arrived. And she wanted them all to know it.
A New Identity
"La Reina Escarlata," they whispered.
The Scarlet Queen.
It started as a rumor. A whisper in Sinaloa. A name tossed around after entire operations disappeared overnight—burned, poisoned, flipped. But tonight, that name had a face.
Valentina didn't come to the gala to mingle. She came to mark her territory. The event was a charity auction hosted by one of Xavier Herrera's clean businesses. She made sure she was on the guest list, under her new alias: Valeria Delgado, heiress of CrimsonSun Holdings.
It was perfect. Legal. Untraceable. Lethal.
The Encounter
Across the room, Diego Fuentes locked eyes with her.
He was dressed in a sleek black suit, badge hidden beneath tailored layers, but his instincts screamed. She was here. The woman from the shadows. The one who haunted his nights—not just because of the case, but because of something deeper.
Valentina walked past him, deliberately brushing his arm.
"Agent," she purred, not stopping.
He turned, heart pounding. "Miss Delgado?"
She smirked without looking back. "Careful. You might fall in love."
Xavier's Suspicion
Watching from a mezzanine above the ballroom, Xavier Herrera sipped his drink, eyes narrowed.
He didn't recognize her—yet. But something about the woman in red burned into his memory like a scar forming in real time.
"Who is that?" he asked his assistant.
"Valeria Delgado," she replied. "CrimsonSun Holdings. Old money. New player."
Xavier stared longer. "I've never heard of her before this quarter."
"She's clean," the assistant said. "On paper."
"No one is clean," Xavier muttered. "Not in this city."
The Message
Valentina didn't just attend the gala—she conquered it.
She bid ten million pesos on a diamond-encrusted watch… and gifted it to charity. She toasted with the mayor. She danced with foreign investors. She whispered into the ears of men who ran ports, banks, and private airports.
By the end of the night, her name was in everyone's mouth—and none of them knew it was poison.
Before leaving, she sent a single black rose to Xavier's private table. No note. Just a red velvet ribbon tied around the stem.
He stared at it for a long time. Then crushed it in his fist.
Later That Night
Back at her private suite, Valentina peeled off the red dress like shedding skin. She stood in front of the mirror, bare, powerful, and calm.
"Let them see her," she whispered to herself. "Let them fear her."
La Reina Escarlata wasn't hiding anymore.
She was playing chess in a ballroom of pawns—and she had just moved her queen into the center of the board.