The Invisible Administrator: How José Hernández Pérez Ran C.C. Cita From 30 Kilometres Away — and Why He Won't Leave

The Hernández System

To understand the C.C. Cita in recent years, you need to know an address thirty kilometres from the centre: Avda. de Canarias 259, second floor, office 4 — Vecindario, municipality of Santa Lucía de Tirajana. That is where Administraciones Horizontal y Vertical SL — trading as Adhover — is based. That is where the nerve centre of a shopping centre located in Maspalomas sat for years.

No office at the centre. No sign. No visible presence. But every lawyer's burofax, every owner's enquiry, every official letter addressed to the community — all of it went through this office. The C.C. Cita has had its own registered address since 1972: Avda. Francia 2, Playa del Inglés. It was not used. Vecindario was used.

The logic behind this is not organisational. It is about control. Whoever receives the post knows what is coming before anyone else. Whoever answers the post — or chooses not to — decides what happens.

The Academic Nobody Checked

On his website, José Hernández Pérez presents himself as a Licenciado en Administración y Dirección de Empresas from Lincoln University in the United Kingdom. Plus: member of the Instituto de Auditores Internos de España and the Asociación Profesional de Expertos Contables y Tributarios de España. That is what adhover.com says. Apparently nobody ever checked.

On Lincoln University: two institutions carry this name — an accredited one in England and one in Pennsylvania. Which one he attended is stated nowhere. Whether his degree was homologated in Spain — a legal requirement for foreign university qualifications — cannot be publicly verified. What anyone who speaks to him can confirm: Hernández Pérez barely speaks English.

At the Colegio Oficial de Administradores de Fincas de Las Palmas — the professional register for property administrators — he is not listed. Not among the 256 registered Colegiados. Membership is not compulsory in Spain. But it provides what protects owners: external oversight, a disciplinary body, mandatory professional liability insurance. Without it, the only place to complain is the courts.

The Man Without a Face

For a man who has run a company for nearly three decades and managed community funds in the millions, José Hernández Pérez is remarkably invisible online. No LinkedIn profile. No Facebook. No Instagram. No photo on his own company website — just a text block about his qualifications. Not a single publicly accessible image of his face, anywhere on the internet.

For this article, CITA News searched systematically: LinkedIn, social networks, image search, media archives, industry directories, the Adhover website itself. The result: zero. No public photograph of José Hernández Pérez exists on the internet.

In the media, he is a phantom. In thirty years of business activity in Gran Canaria, neither La Provincia nor Canarias7 nor El Día returns a single hit for "Adhover" or "Administraciones Horizontal y Vertical." No mention. No quote. No letter to the editor. No association photo. Nothing.

And in the legal database CENDOJ — the central registry of all published court decisions in Spain — neither his name nor his company's appears. In nearly thirty years of property management: not a single published court ruling.

Some people are invisible because they lead quiet lives. With José Hernández Pérez, the invisibility is structural. No photo means he cannot be recognised. No media profile means he cannot be contextualised. No court rulings means there is no public trace of disputes — even though the Google Maps entry shows they existed. Invisibility is not the opposite of power. It is its instrument.

Fifteen Years of Darkness in the Commercial Register

The Boletín Oficial del Registro Mercantil — BORME — is Spain's official commercial register. Every limited company is legally obliged to file annual accounts there each year. It is the most basic form of public accountability.

Between 1998 and 2011: thirteen entries. Incorporation, capital act, annual filings. All normal. After August 2011: nothing. Not a single Depósito de Cuentas. Fifteen years. The company continued to actively manage community funds in the seven-figure range throughout. And filed not a single set of accounts.

Formally, the company is still active — no dissolution entry, the 2024 Censo Cameral still lists it. Anyone who ignores the most basic disclosure obligation for fifteen years is not doing so by accident. They do it because nobody asks.

The Death That Broke the System

The C.C. Cita operated for decades on a simple principle: the president up front, the administrator in the back. Cristóbal Sevilla Martí was the face. Hernández Pérez was the machine — the numbers, the keys, the post.

In late 2025, Sevilla Martí died. And instead of an orderly transition — nothing. No transparency report. No disclosure. No phone call. Hernández Pérez filled the power vacuum with the one thing he does best: sitting still.

The Vote — and What Did Not Happen After

On 7 March 2026, the owners assembled. The result was unambiguous: William Enrique Reyes became president. Adhover's 2025 annual accounts were rejected by majority vote. Hernández Pérez was voted out.

He wrote the minutes of that meeting himself — the minutes of his own removal. The document contains four serious errors, including a misrepresented vote on the annual accounts. That is documented.

Then a handover should have followed. Ten days for current documents. Forty-five days for annual accounts. Those are the rules set by the Colegio de Administradores. Hernández Pérez met neither deadline.

No minute book. No bank access. No contracts. The community's computers disappeared from the office after the change of power. The accounts at BBVA in San Bartolomé de Tirajana — blocked. Over one million euros, and nobody can get to it.

The Art of Not Answering

Before the decisive meeting, an owner emailed Hernández Pérez twice. A simple question about a proxy delegation format. Adhover's website advertises: available 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.

No reply.

Three days before the assembly: a burofax. Court-admissible, with proof of delivery, drafted by a lawyer, one-day deadline. Three demands: challenge to the January assembly, access to documentation, release of records under the Ley de Propiedad Horizontal. The burofax documented serious defects in the January meeting: invitations without proof of delivery. No record of who was summoned. Massive proxy concentration with one person — unchecked. An owner who only heard about the assembly informally. A registered property-owning company — not formally invited.

The response to a court-admissible lawyer's letter with a one-day deadline: none. The deadline passed. The assembly came. Hernández Pérez said nothing.

What Google Maps Says About Him

Adhover has four reviews on Google Maps. 3.0 out of 5 stars. Two fives, two ones. No middle ground.

Francisco Javier Carreras Riudavets, a Local Guide with 218 reviews, wrote: incorrect billing, refusal to return documents after the contract ended, rude and unprofessional behaviour. The same pattern the owners of C.C. Cita are experiencing right now. Point for point.

Hernández Pérez's reply — public, on Google Maps, readable by anyone: he called the reviewer a "poor illiterate who boasts about having a degree." He claimed not to know the person. Said there had never been any professional relationship. Said he should be left alone.

That is not a slip behind closed doors. That is the public communication style of a man who managed over one million euros of community funds.

A Credit Score of Zero

Credit agency Axesor rates the Comunidad de Propietarios del C.C. Cita at 0 out of 10. Since November 2024. Status: "Indicios de Inactividad." The score had already dropped to zero in November 2022. Briefly recovered. Zero again.

Fourteen employees. Over 1,300 units. 23,000 square metres. And a credit rating of zero. Not since the president's death in late 2025. Since before. Under the management of José Hernández Pérez.

The Strategy of Sitting It Out

There is a pattern in everything José Hernández Pérez does — or rather does not do. No reply to emails. No reply to burofaxes. No annual accounts. No handover. No professional register. No correction of minutes. No photograph.

This is not an oversight. It is a method. Silence forces the other side to act. And acting costs money, time and nerves. Silence long enough, and the hope is that the others give up. That the new board collapses under the chaos. That the mess becomes so large that the man who caused it ends up looking indispensable.

That is the bet Hernández Pérez is making. So far, it has worked.

What Happens Now

On 18 April 2026, the owners of C.C. Cita meet for the next assembly. The questions on the table: Where are the documents? Where is the money? Who had access? Why are the computers gone?

Only one person can provide answers. He will not do so voluntarily. It will take lawyers, deadlines, court orders. It will take owners who refuse to give up.

Hernández Pérez is betting they will. The question is whether he is right.