Chapter 7 - THE FINAL CONFESSIONZapopan State Penitentiary—Three Days Later.
The interview room was cold, sterile, and lit by a harsh fluorescent tube overhead. Behind the thick reinforced glass sat Teresa Villaseñor. Gone were the designer silk blouses, the oversized sunglasses, and the haughty aura of untouchable wealth. She wore a standard inmate jumpsuit, her hair unstyled, her fingers trembling as she clutched a styrofoam cup of water.
On the other side of the glass sat Daniela.
She wasn't alone. Rodrigo stood just behind her, his posture upright, his eyes devoid of the cowed submission he had carried his entire life.
Daniela picked up the intercom phone. Teresa slowly raised her receiver, her eyes burning with an intense, unrepentant hatred.
"You think you've won, don't you, little girl?" Teresa’s voice hissed through the speaker, sharp and venomous. "You think destroying my home and exposing my business will save your precious family? The people I worked with... they own the courts, the banks, and the medical boards. You'll never be safe in Mexico again."
Daniela didn't flinch. She leaned closer to the microphone, her expression as serene as a calm sea before a hurricane.
"We didn't just expose your business, Teresa," Daniela replied smoothly. "While you were sitting in your holding cell, federal investigators traced your offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. Every single asset, every property, every hidden trust fund bearing the Villaseñor name has been frozen under federal asset forfeiture laws."
Teresa’s cup slipped from her fingers, clattering against the metal table, spilling water across the counter. Her face turned chalk white.
"No... that's impossible," she whispered, her voice cracking. "My husband's legacy..."
"Your husband's legacy was built on poison," Daniela continued, her voice cutting like a razor. "And as for your son... Rodrigo has officially filed a permanent restraining order against you on behalf of himself and Mateo. You will never see your grandson again. Not in this lifetime."
Teresa slammed her fists against the glass, shrieking with demonic fury, her face distorted in rage as guards rushed into the booth to restrain her, dragging her screaming away from the window.
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Daniela hung up the phone. She stood up, turned around, and looked at her husband.
Rodrigo met her eyes, offering a small, sad, but deeply sincere smile. He reached out his hand, and without hesitation, Daniela slid her fingers into his.
