The only sound in Antonella's room was the slow whirring of the ceiling fan. She paced back and forth, phone in hand, eyes glued to the screen, waiting for the call to be answered.
Finally, a voice came through — rough, a little mocking.
—Antonella. Didn't expect to hear from you so soon.
—I can't wait any longer —she said, stopping in front of the window—. I need your help. NOW.
The man chuckled lightly.
—You know I don't work for free.
She knew that already. She'd run through every possible scenario before dialing this number. She never wanted to resort to this. But she couldn't leave any more loose ends.
—How much do you want?
—This isn't about money. I've got plenty. What I need... is something more valuable —his voice turned colder, sending a chill down her spine—. A favor. When I ask for it. That's all.
Antonella didn't answer right away. She looked at her reflection in the glass. She looked paler than usual, but her eyes still held that sharp, determined light. She couldn't afford to lose. Not now.
—I accept —she said, reluctantly.
—Good. Give me a few days. I'll gather what I need. It won't be perfect, but it'll do.
The call ended.
Antonella sat on the edge of her bed. She knew exactly what she'd just done — made a deal with the devil.
But if that's what it took to take control back, she'd do it. No hesitation.
Let them come. I'm ready.
.....
Santiago stared at the ceiling. He'd slept, but didn't feel rested. It'd been that way ever since he found out Antonella still had evidence of what happened.
Things had shifted after they used David's strategy. The comments online weren't so hostile anymore. Some people were even apologizing for judging him without proof.
But still, something inside him wouldn't settle.
He got up, walked to the bathroom, splashed water on his face, and looked at himself in the mirror.
Sometimes he wondered if any of this was really worth it. If what they were doing was actually helping—or just making things worse. He knew he wasn't innocent. He'd done something. Thought he'd gotten away with it. But the truth slapped him in the face: Antonella had proof. Even so, he felt like he was on the right side this time.
And yet, that tightness in his chest remained. Like a constant little stab: something could still go wrong. It wasn't paranoia. It was experience.
And Antonella wasn't an easy enemy. She had resources. Contacts. She was capable of way more than she let on.
This isn't over. We won a battle. Not the war.
.....
The smell of fresh coffee filled the café. It was early, but Saval and Semiel were already at their usual table, holding their mugs and smiling.
—Feels weird, doesn't it? —Saval asked, taking a sip—. Coming back to campus without everyone looking at us like we're criminals.
Semiel nodded, though his mind was still elsewhere.
—Yeah, weird. But also... kinda nice. This week's felt different. No whispers, no heavy stares. Like people are finally starting to think for themselves again.
—What we did worked —Saval said, with quiet pride—. David's plan was genius. Stories that show people for who they really are... they've got power. More than we thought.
Just then, Xavier walked over to their table. He had a cup in hand and a neutral expression on his face.
—Well, well —he said, sitting down without asking—. Quite the plan you pulled off, huh?
Semiel frowned.
—What are you talking about?
—Oh, come on —Xavier smirked—. The video, the stories, the shift in the narrative... It all lines up too perfectly to be a coincidence.
Saval shrugged.
—No point hiding it from you. A friend helped us put together a strategy. We collected real testimonies, edited them carefully, and made them public. No names, no direct attacks. Just... the truth.
Xavier let out a low whistle.
—Never would've guessed that from you two. And I mean that as a compliment. Smart. And pretty damn effective.
Semiel stayed quiet. He watched Xavier with a mix of suspicion and respect. Something in Xavier's expression told him that compliment came with strings attached.
—So, what now, boys? —Xavier asked eventually.
—Now, we wait —Saval replied—. Antonella's not going to stay still. We know that.
Xavier nodded as he sipped his coffee. He set the cup down and looked at both of them.
—By the way, I'll probably be collecting my favor this week.
The words hung in the air. Saval frowned. Semiel, on the other hand, reacted immediately.
—I'll handle it. I was the one who accepted your help. Saval doesn't need to be involved.
Xavier studied him for a second, as if weighing his words.
—You sure?
—Yeah.
—Good —Xavier said at last, with a half-smile—. I like people who get to the point. I'll let you know what I need.
Silence settled over the table again, broken only by the faint murmur of other customers.
Xavier stood up and gave them a slight nod.
—Enjoy the peace while it lasts.
As he walked away, Saval looked at Semiel.
—You sure about this? I know he helped us once, but I still don't fully trust him. And we have no idea what he's going to ask for.
Semiel nodded slowly.
—I know. But it's better if I deal with it. We've already got enough on our plate to start splitting things up again. If we've learned anything from all this... it's that we can't trust just anyone.
Saval said nothing. Semiel looked down at his now-empty cup. He thought about Xavier — his eyes, that calm demeanor that seemed to be hiding something more.
He didn't know what Xavier was going to ask for. But whatever it was, he was ready to pay the price. Even if, this time, the price might not be fair.