Chapter 3 - THE NOTARY TRAPMonday morning arrived with a gray overcast sky. Ofelia wore her finest silk dress and heaviest gold jewelry, while Brenda looked like she was heading to a VIP nightclub, jingling the keys to the brand-new pickup truck that Andrés’s hard-earned Canadian dollars had paid for.
They arrived at the grand, polished marble offices of Notary Public No. 12 in downtown Irapuato. Andrés walked in wearing a simple jacket, carrying a black leather briefcase. Marisol stayed behind in a nearby private hospital where Andrés had checked her in under an assumed name late Sunday night, ensuring she was finally getting proper medical care, intravenous fluids, and pain management.
"Why isn't Marisol here?" Ofelia demanded as they sat down in the private conference room. "She should be at home keeping the place clean."
"She was feeling too weak, Ma," Andrés said casually. "Besides, this is family business. Marisol doesn't need to be involved in the legal transfers."
Ofelia smirked, satisfied with his response. "Good. She never belonged in our family anyway."
A tall, distinguished man in an immaculate suit walked into the room, holding a thick stack of legal folders.
"Good morning, everyone. I am Attorney Ramos, standing in for the chief notary today," the lawyer announced professionally. He set the documents on the table. "Mr. Andrés Salgado has instructed us to draft several urgent property and asset reallocation deeds today."
Brenda leaned forward, tapping her manicured nails on the wooden table. "Where do we sign to get the Canadian tax exemption approved?"
Attorney Ramos smiled smoothly. "Right here, Miss Salgado. This first document is a full, irrevocable transfer of ownership for the residential property located at Calle Los Olivos #402. Miss Brenda Salgado will sign over 100% of the property rights to Mr. Andrés Salgado."
Brenda hesitated for half a second, but Ofelia nudged her sharply in the ribs. "Sign it, Brenda! Don't be stupid. Once the 4.8 million arrives, he’ll buy you an even bigger house in Guadalajara!"
Brenda snatched the pen and scribbled her signature across the legal lines, stamping her thumbprint in blue ink onto the legal registry.
"Excellent," Attorney Ramos said, placing the property deed aside. "Now, regarding the bank accounts. Doña Ofelia, as the current primary holder of account #8801 at Banco Nacional, you are signing this authorization to add Andrés Salgado as the primary executive signatory with full, uninhibited administrative power, including the right to audit past transaction ledgers and freeze outgoing transfers for corporate compliance verification."
Ofelia looked at the complex legalese on the paper. "This will let the Canadian company wire the 4.8 million directly into the account?"
"Precisely," Attorney Ramos said without breaking eye contact. "It gives Mr. Salgado complete authority to demonstrate clear, legally binding financial integration in Mexico."
Greed completely erased any remaining caution. Ofelia grabbed the pen and signed her name with a flourish, pressing her thumb firmly into the ink pad.
"Done!" Ofelia exclaimed, laughing nervously. "Now, Andrés... when does the company send the confirmation code?"
Andrés slowly reached out, collected the signed documents, and handed them to Attorney Ramos, who carefully locked them inside an iron briefcase. Then, Andrés leaned back in his leather chair, crossed his legs, and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
The atmosphere in the room abruptly shifted. The air grew icy.
"There is no Canadian wire transfer, Ma," Andrés said, his voice terrifyingly calm.
The laughter died instantly on Ofelia’s lips. Brenda froze mid-breath.
"What... what did you just say?" Ofelia gasped, her face draining of color.
"I said, there is no 4.8 million pesos," Andrés repeated, looking her dead in the eye. "There is no company line shutting down. There is no corporate compliance check."
Brenda jumped up, knocking her chair back against the wall. "You lied to us?! You tricking us into giving you the house back?!"
"I didn't trick you into giving me your house, Brenda," Andrés stood up, placing his hands flat on the polished table, leaning over his sister. "I made you sign back what you stole from me while I was freezing to death in Alberta working 14 hours a day!"
Ofelia’s shock quickly morphed into violent rage. She slammed her fists on the table, her golden bangles clattering against each other. "You ungrateful little brat! I am your mother! You gave that money to ME! I can do whatever I want with it! I’ll call the police! I’ll report you for fraud!"
"Go ahead, Ma," Andrés smiled—a dark, cold smile that made Ofelia’s blood run cold. "Call them. Because while you were busy signing over the deed, Attorney Ramos wasn't just acting as a notary. He is a certified forensic legal investigator."
Andrés tapped his phone screen, and a large digital monitor on the conference room wall clicked on.
Displayed on the screen were hundreds of bank statements, line by line, highlighted in bright red.
"Over four years, I sent 1.95 million pesos to your account," Andrés said, pointing to the screen. "150,000 pesos were used for construction materials. Where did the remaining 1.8 million go, Ma? Let’s check the statements."
The screen zoomed in.
"Liverpool Department Store: 85,000 pesos."
"Boutique Spa & Nails: 32,000 pesos."
"Nissan Dealership Downpayment: 220,000 pesos."
"Cash Withdrawals at Local Casinos: 450,000 pesos."
And at the very bottom of the ledger, dated just three weeks prior:
"Transfer to Private Clinic - DENIED - Amount: 6,000 pesos."
"You refused 6,000 pesos for Marisol’s cancer screening," Andrés whispered, his voice trembling with a terrifying blend of rage and grief. "You let her suffer, you starved her, you stripped her of her dignity, and you forced her to sell her hair for scraps while you gambled my sweat and blood at the casino!"
Ofelia backed away, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she looked at the evidence displayed on the screen. "Andrés... listen to me... she's a liar! She spent money on other men! We were just protecting you!"
"Shut up!" Andrés roared, the power in his voice rattling the glass windows of the conference room.
Attorney Ramos stepped forward, opening his leather portfolio to reveal a stack of legal summonses stamped by the State Prosecutor's Office.
"Doña Ofelia, Miss Brenda," Ramos declared in a stern, authoritative voice. "Because you just signed full legal administrative control of the account back to Mr. Salgado, he now has full standing as the legal victim of grand embezzlement, domestic abuse, and criminal fraud. Furthermore, the property title is now officially locked in Mr. Salgado's name."
"You can't do this!" Brenda screamed, tears of panic finally breaking through her heavy makeup. "The truck is mine! The keys are in my purse!"
Andrés looked at his sister with absolute contempt. "Check out the window, Brenda."
Brenda rushed to the glass. Parked on the street below was a municipal tow truck, hoisting her brand-new pickup truck onto its bed. Two police officers stood alongside it, filling out impound forms.
"My car!" Brenda shrieked, clawing at the window pane.
"It’s not your car, Brenda," Andrés said coldly as he walked past them toward the door. "It was bought with stolen funds. And as of five minutes ago, I filed an emergency asset seizure order. Every piece of jewelry, every luxury item, and every peso remaining in that bank account is officially frozen by the state court."
Ofelia collapsed onto her knees, grabbing Andrés’s pant leg, weeping hysterically. "Andrés! Please! I’m your mother! You can’t leave me with nothing! What are we going to do?!"
Andrés looked down at the woman who gave him life, feeling nothing but a hollow emptiness. He reached down and firmly detached her hands from his leg.
"You have twenty-four hours to pack your clothes and get out of my house," Andrés said softly. "If you take so much as a single light fixture, I will have the prosecutor execute the arrest warrants for grand larceny before sunset tomorrow."
He walked out of the room, leaving his mother and sister screaming and crying in the echo of the empty hallway. But as Andrés stepped out into the crisp afternoon air, his phone rang.
It was the doctor from the private hospital where Marisol was admitted.
"Mr. Salgado?" the doctor’s voice sounded gravely concerned. "You need to come back to the hospital immediately. We just ran the comprehensive MRI scans on your wife..."
May you like
Andrés’s heart plummeted. "Is the cancer spreading?"
"Mr. Salgado... it’s not just the cancer," the doctor said solemnly. "We found severe chemical toxicity in her bloodstream. Someone has been intentionally poisoning her."
