Chapter 3: The Agency Starts to Break
The first crack didn’t come from Diego.
It came from a client.
At 11:48 a.m., Mariana received a forwarded email from Esteban Murillo.
No subject line.
Just a screenshot attachment and one sentence:
You should see this.
She opened it.
“Notice of Contract Suspension – Immediate Effect”
A major client had pulled out of Diego’s agency.
No warning.
No negotiation.
No gradual exit.
Just termination.
Mariana stared at the screen longer than she expected to.
Not because she was surprised.
Because she was confirming timing.
Less than three hours after her transfer.
And already something external had reacted.
Her phone rang again.
Esteban.
“This is moving faster than expected,” he said without greeting.
Mariana didn’t sit this time.
“I assume this isn’t normal?”
A short pause.
“No,” Esteban replied.
“Not at this scale.”
She looked toward the kitchen counter where her phone had rested earlier.
As if it had become heavier since the morning.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
Esteban exhaled slowly.
“There are liquidity concerns surfacing across multiple accounts tied to the agency.”
A pause.
“And Diego has been overleveraging short-term credit against projected revenue.”
Mariana frowned slightly.
“I don’t understand what that means in simple terms.”
A faint pause on the line.
Then Esteban answered carefully.
“It means he was spending money as if future deals were already guaranteed.”
Silence.
Mariana walked slowly to the window again.
Outside, nothing had changed.
That was what made it unsettling.
The world was still pretending everything was normal.
“And now?” she asked.
Esteban didn’t hesitate this time.
“Now the future didn’t arrive.”
That sentence landed differently.
Not dramatic.
Accurate.
Mariana sat down.
Slowly.
“So the agency is collapsing,” she said.
Not a question.
A pause.
Then Esteban confirmed:
“Yes. But not randomly.”
A beat.
“It’s cascading.”
Cascading.
That word mattered.
Because it meant structure, not accident.
Mariana felt something cold settle in her chest.
“So my transfer…”
“It didn’t cause this,” Esteban interrupted gently.
“But it accelerated exposure.”
She closed her eyes briefly.
Not guilt.
Understanding.
Diego hadn’t been stable.
He had been balanced on borrowed time.
And she had just removed one of the supports.
Her phone buzzed again.
This time.
Diego.
She didn’t answer immediately.
She watched it ring.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then stop.
A message came instead.
Diego:
We need to talk now. Clients are pulling out. What did you do?
Mariana exhaled slowly.
Not panic.
Clarity again.
She typed:
I transferred the money you said was urgent.
Paused.
Then added:
Things seem unstable.
She sent it.
Seconds later, the reply came.
Too fast.
Too sharp.
Diego:
Don’t act innocent. You triggered something.
Mariana read that twice.
Then set the phone down.
Esteban spoke again.
“I should warn you,” he said.
A pause.
“Diego is starting to ask where the funds originated.”
Mariana’s expression didn’t change.
“From my inheritance.”
“Yes,” Esteban said.
“But he didn’t expect you to still control it directly.”
Silence.
That was the real issue.
Not the money.
The control assumption.
Mariana stood again.
Walked toward the mirror.
Looked at herself.
For years, she had been positioned as supportive.
Not central.
Not strategic.
Supportive.
Now she was neither supporting nor explaining.
She was observing consequences.
Another notification appeared.
This time a news alert.
LOCAL MARKETS: Small Creative Firms Face Liquidity Shock Amid Credit Tightening
She didn’t need Esteban to explain that one.
Diego’s agency wasn’t isolated.
It was part of a larger fragile structure.
And that structure was now shaking.
Her phone rang again.
Diego.
Again.
She answered this time.
“What do you want?” she asked calmly.
His voice was different now.
Less controlled.
More compressed.
“Tell me what you did.”
Mariana tilted her head slightly.
“I already told you.”
A pause.
Then Diego’s voice sharpened.
“This isn’t just about you transferring money. Someone is pulling lines. Clients are reacting. This is coordinated.”
Mariana listened carefully.
Not to his panic.
To his assumptions.
“You think I coordinated this?” she asked softly.
Silence.
Then:
“I think something changed the moment that money moved.”
Mariana looked out the window again.
And for the first time…
she realized something important.
He wasn’t just blaming her.
He was searching for an actor.
Someone to explain the collapse.
Because accepting randomness would mean accepting lack of control.
“Diego,” she said quietly.
“I think you’re looking for the wrong cause.”
His breathing tightened on the line.
And in that moment…
Mariana understood the next phase was already starting.
Not just financial collapse.
May you like
Interpretation war.
And she had stopped being a background character in it.
