100 MILLION TO A “STREET RAT”
“I’ll give you 100 million if you open the safe,” the billionaire announced — and the room exploded in laughter. Mateo Sandoval slapped his hands together and pointed at the barefoot boy shaking in front of the titanium safe. “100 million dollars,” he shouted, grinning like a man who enjoyed cruelty.
“All yours if you crack this beauty. What do you say, little street rat?”
The five businessmen around him howled with laughter so hard they wiped tears from their eyes. It was a perfect scene for them:
An 11-year-old boy, clothes shredded and filthy, staring at the most expensive safe in Latin America as if it were some magical relic dropped from the sky.
“This is comedy gold,” boomed 49-year-old property tycoon Rodrigo Fuentes. “Mateo, you’re a genius. You really think he even knows what you’re offering?”
“Please,” smirked 51-year-old pharma heir Gabriel Ortiz.
“He probably thinks 100 million is like 100 pesos.”
“Or maybe he thinks he can eat it,” added 54-year-old oil magnate Leonardo Márquez, triggering another wave of vicious laughter. In the corner, 38-year-old Elena Vargas gripped her mop so tightly it shook in her hands. The stick thumped dully against the floor, each knock a drumbeat of shame.
She was the cleaning lady. And she had committed the unpardonable sin of bringing her son to work because she couldn’t afford childcare. “Mr.
Sandoval…” she whispered, voice barely audible under the laughter. “Please, we’ll leave now. My son won’t touch anything, I promise he’ll—”
“Quiet.”
Mateo’s bark cracked through the air like a whip.
Elena flinched as if struck. “Did I say you could speak?” he sneered. “Eight years you’ve scrubbed my toilets without a word from me.
And now you interrupt my meeting?”
Silence dropped, heavy and ugly. Elena lowered her head, tears gathering, and backed until she was almost pressed into the wall. Her son stared at her with a look that should never appear on an 11-year-old’s face: pain, helplessness… and something deeper.
POWER AND HUMILIATION
At 53, Mateo Sandoval had amassed a fortune of 900 million dollars by crushing competitors and trampling anyone he deemed beneath him. His office on the 42nd floor was a shrine to his ego:
Wall-to-wall glass showing off the city
Imported furniture worth more than most houses
And that Swiss-made safe that alone cost the equivalent of ten years of Elena’s wages
But Mateo’s favorite luxury wasn’t any of that — it was the power to stage scenes like this, reminding poor people where they belonged. “Come here, boy,” he ordered with a flick of his hand.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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