Chapter 2 - The Exit Strategy
The moment we stepped past the wrought-iron gates of the hacienda, the heavy bass of the mariachi music faded into a dull, rhythmic thud. The cool night air of Querétaro hit us, carrying the scent of dry earth and impending rain.
Valentina buried her face in my neck, her small body trembling slightly. Sofía clutched my left hand so tightly her knuckles turned white.
“Mom, where are we going?” Sofía asked, her voice small, devoid of the childish lightness that should have belonged to an eight-year-old.
“We’re going home, my love,” I said, keeping my voice steady, though my heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. “A real home. Where no one ever takes your food, and where you never have to ask permission to exist.”
My phone vibrated in my coat pocket. Once. Twice. Then a relentless barrage of text messages and missed calls.
Andrés: Lucía, you absolute psycho. Get back here right now. You’re ruining my afternoon.
Andrés: My mother is having palpitations. If you don't walk back through those doors in five minutes, don't bother coming home. I’m locking you out.
Andrés: Answer me! Where are you going in that old car? Everyone is looking at me!
I didn’t unlock the screen. Instead, I swiped down, silenced the notifications, and slid the phone back into my pocket. Let him panic. Let him sweat under that expensive custom-tailored suit while his guests whispered behind their champagne flutes. For eleven years, I had managed the PR crises of multi-million-peso corporate acquisitions; handling a fragile, narcissistic man-child throwing a tantrum was child’s play.
We reached my car—a matte-black, fully armored 2025 Volvo XC90 parked discreetly in the outer gravel lot. To the Villaseñor family, Andrés let it slip that I drove a “reliable little second-hand crossover” to help me get around to cheap apartment viewings. They had no idea that the vehicle was registered directly under Horizonte Capital Inmobiliario, outfitted with ballistic protection, and worth more than Andrés’s entire wardrobe combined.
I buckled the girls into their custom car seats, handed Sofía my iPad with a downloaded documentary about marine biology to calm her down, and slid into the driver’s seat.
May you like
As I turned the ignition, the dashboard screen illuminated. A calendar notification popped up: 10:00 AM Monday – Meeting with Corporate Legal: Default Notice Execution – Andrés Villaseñor.
I smiled in the darkness of the cabin, put the car in reverse, and drove away from the hacienda without looking in the rearview mirror.
