“You think you’re going to live that long, trash?”
The crowd laughed even louder.
An elegant woman covered her mouth, laughing.
A man shook his head: “What kind of beggar…”
Lucia lowered her head.
Tears fell to the ground.
But his hands were still holding the cans.
They were all their hope.
“Security!” Ricardo shouted.
“Get her out of here! And call the police! These people need to be locked up!”
The guard approached.
His rough hand reached out—
directly towards the girl’s neck.
But before touching it…
Another hand stopped him.
Firm.
Strong.
Cold.
“Don’t touch her.”
The whole place fell silent.
The man was standing behind.
High.
Dressed in a simple but impeccable black suit.
His eyes were as cold as ice.
His name was Alejandro Castillo.
One of Mexico’s most discreet billionaires.
He didn’t look at anyone else.
Only the kneeling girl.
His gaze was not one of pity.
It was something deeper.
Pain.
“How much?” he asked briefly.
Ricardo changed his attitude immediately.
“Um… Mr. Castillo… it’s just that—”
“I asked. How much?”
“Four thousand pesos…”
Alejandro said nothing.
He took out his wallet.
He placed ten times that amount on the counter.
“Keep the change.”
The silence was absolute.
Nobody dared to laugh.
Nobody said anything.
Alexander bowed.
He took the cans.
She gently placed them in Lucia’s hands.
“Go home.”
Just two words.
Nothing else.
Lucia looked up.
Her eyes were red.
“T-thank you, sir…”
But Alejandro had already turned around.
He didn’t look back.
He didn’t ask her name.
I didn’t need to know anything else.
At least… that’s what everyone thought.
Ten minutes later.
Under the freezing rain.
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