Refuse Carlos, turning down the money

Isabella sat still for a moment, her fingers tightening around the stem of her wine glass. She could feel the weight of Carlos’s words, the thinly veiled threat beneath his polished exterior. Her father had always taught her to tread carefully with the oligarchs, to recognize their power but never let them forget her own. She wasn’t about to let Carlos or anyone else dictate her course.

“You make a compelling argument, Carlos,” she said finally, her tone calm but firm. “But let me make one thing clear: Montesoro is changing. These reforms aren’t just a policy—they’re my right. The right to shape Montesoro as I see fit. If that means upsetting the stakeholders, then so be it.”

Carlos’s grin faltered, replaced by a steely expression. “Careful, Isabella,” he said, his voice lowering. “You’re walking a dangerous line. Montesoro runs on more than ideals. Without us, your roads won’t get built, your programs won’t get funded, and your presidency will crumble before it even begins.”

Isabella set her glass down, leaning slightly forward to meet his gaze. “And without my father, none of you would have anything to fund in the first place. Montesoro isn’t just your playground—it’s my country. My father may have tolerated this imbalance, but I won’t. If you and the others want to thrive, you’ll need to adapt to the new Presidency, not the other way around.”

Carlos leaned back, his lips curling into a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re gambling with a lot, Presidente. You think the others can keep you in power when the ones who actually hold the strings decide to cut them? Montesoro isn’t a democracy, Isabella. It’s a business, and businesses don’t run on charity.”

“They can try,” she replied, her tone unwavering. “and they shall find out how serious I am."

For a moment, the room was silent, the air heavy with tension. Carlos’s smirk returned, though it was colder now, more calculating. He lounged back in his seat, finishing his wine in one smooth motion. “Well,” he said, looking into his empty glass, “you certainly have your father’s fire. I just hope you’ve inherited his cunning as well. You’ll need it.”

[-20 Oligarch Support]