Chapter 4 - The Poisoned Iron Pen
The question hung in the air of the boardroom like toxic vapor.
Rodrigo slowly lifted his head, his face completely devoid of color. Seven years ago, at this very table, Lourdes had stood behind him while he pushed a fifty-page prenuptial agreement across the wood toward Helena. Back then, the Siqueira family had viewed Helena as an ordinary engineer from a modest working-class background who was merely lucky to marry into their prestigious dynasty.
“What about the prenuptial agreement, Alberto?” Lourdes snapped, crossing her arms defensively. “We drafted it specifically to ensure that ungrateful girl could never take half of our family’s wealth! We protected our real estate, our corporate voting shares, and our family trusts! It was an ironclad document!”
“It was ironclad, Mrs. Siqueira,” Alberto sighed, tapping a printed clause on page thirty-four. “So ironclad that Section Nine explicitly states: ‘All intellectual property, proprietary software, industrial patents, and technical innovations created, developed, or owned by either spouse prior to or during the marriage shall remain the sole, unencumbered, separate property of the originating individual, immune from any marital claim, division of assets, or commercial equity transfer upon dissolution of the marriage.’”
Marcela let out a sharp, hysterical squeak. “Wait... what does that mean in plain English?”
Alberto turned to look at the pregnant mistress, his expression cold and unimpressed. “It means, young lady, that the very clause the Siqueira family designed to starve Helena out of their construction fortune now completely legally isolates her engineering empire from their reach. Every line of code, every software protocol, and every automated patent belongs one hundred percent to Helena Bennett. Siqueira Engineering has zero legal claim to her technology. None whatsoever.”
Lourdes’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like a fish dying on dry sand. Her hand reached up to clutch her pearl necklace, her knuckles turning white. “No... that's impossible. She worked in our offices! She sat in our development meetings! She helped design those blueprints!”
“As an outside technical consultant providing licensed services under a temporary inter-company memorandum,” Alberto corrected her relentlessly. “A memorandum that terminated the moment Rodrigo signed the IP Revocation Notice last night in that hotel room.”
Rodrigo jumped out of his chair, knocking over his silver water tumbler. Water pooled across the polished mahogany, soaking the corner of the divorce documents.
“You told me that folder was just an asset inventory, Alberto!” Rodrigo screamed, turning his fury onto the family lawyer. “You told me to sign the delivery slip so she couldn't claim she was never properly served with the divorce summons!”
“You didn't show me the document before you signed it, Rodrigo!” Alberto shouted back, losing his professional composure. “You scribbled your name on an administrative delivery form without even reading the microscopic text at the bottom! You waived your own cure period! You handed her the executioner’s axe and put your own neck on the block!”
Just then, the boardroom’s massive teleconference screen flickered to life. The automated incoming call indicator chimed three times.
The screen displayed the sleek, minimalist logo of Nexis Engineering Solutions.
A second later, the video connected.
Sitting in a sunlit, high-tech glass conference room on the other side of town was Helena. She wore an immaculate tailored navy blazer, her dark hair swept back into an elegant chignon, her hands resting calmly on the table. Beside her sat Camila, looking every bit the ruthless legal assassin she was trained to be.
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Helena looked straight into the camera, her steady green eyes locking onto Rodrigo’s panicked face through the high-definition monitor.
“Good morning, Rodrigo,” Helena said calmly, her voice echoing with crystal clarity through the high-end speakers. “I assume the harbor batching plants have stopped running by now.”
