"Autonomy?"

"Autonomy?" Isabella echoed incredulously. "Your Department of National Stability already operates with significant discretion. What more could you need?"

Eduardo clasped his hands behind his back, his stance unnervingly composed. "Access, Presidente. Full, unrestricted access to all intelligence streams—civilian, military, and otherwise. Furthermore, expanded jurisdiction to detain and interrogate any individuals deemed a threat to national security, no matter their rank or station."

Isabella sat back in the leather chair, her fingers drumming lightly against its armrest. Eduardo's words hung in the air like a storm cloud, oppressive and inescapable. It was a chilling proposition, and she felt the weight of it pressing on her chest.

"If I agree to this," she said slowly, her voice measured, "you would wield power beyond any other. Power unchecked, even by me. Do you understand the scope of what you’re asking, Minister Valdés?"

She studied him, searching for any flicker of humanity in his cold, calculating demeanor. There was none. Eduardo Valdés was a machine, a man of logic and efficiency. Perhaps that made him the perfect tool for such a task—or the most dangerous one.

"I understand perfectly, Presidente. The burden of responsibility is not lost on me." Eduardo paused, his voice suddenly gaining in intensity. "Your father was a pragmatic man, Isabella. He knew the necessity of maintaining control, the need to break a few eggs occasionally. Do you think it was easy for him, the choices he had to make?"

Isabella’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of her father. She thought of the papers in his study, the secrets he had carried to his grave. Secrets that hinted at alliances and betrayal, a tangled web of intrigue and treachery.

Secrets that the man in front of her have the answers to.