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Pedro's presence at the estate unearthed memories Sanchez had long buried. He remembered the times his uncle had subtly undermined his father, always claiming to be a loyal brother while plotting for control of Cruz Oil.
Late one night, Sanchez sat in his study, staring at an old family photograph. His father and mother stood proudly in the center, flanked by a younger Sanchez and Pedro. The image, once a symbol of unity, now felt like a cruel reminder of betrayal.
Susan entered, carrying two cups of tea. "Can't sleep?" she asked, placing one cup in front of him.
"Not with him under this roof," Sanchez admitted.
Susan took a seat across from him. "He's charming, I'll give him that. But there's something... off about him."
Sanchez nodded. "He's always been like that. Manipulative, power-hungry. He wanted the company after my father passed, but the will was clear. It was all left to me."
"Do you think he's here to try again?"
"I don't think—" Sanchez hesitated. "I know he is. And he won't stop until he gets what he wants.