Chapter 3 - First Class to Federal Crime
The flight from Monterrey to Miami took a little over three hours. For Doña Teresa, it was heaven. She basked in the luxury of first class, completely convinced that she had successfully taught Valeria a lesson about trying to upstage her family vacations. Rodrigo, however, sat uncomfortably in his leather seat, a sickening pit growing in his stomach. Every time the plane hit a pocket of turbulence, he pictured Valeria on the floor.
"Mom," Rodrigo whispered, leaning across the aisle. "Do you think we should have at least left the back door unlocked? What if she really was in labor?"
Teresa rolled her eyes, adjusting her designer sleep mask. "Grow a spine, Rodrigo. She’s a dramatic, middle-class girl who thinks because she makes money, she owns this family. A few hours alone will remind her who holds the real power. Now turn off your mind and think about the beach."
When the wheels of the Boeing 737 touched down at Miami International Airport, Teresa was the first to stand, smoothing down her immaculate linen pants. They walked off the jet bridge, laughing about the shopping spree they were going to charge to Valeria’s supplementary credit cards.
But as they stepped into the international arrivals terminal, the laughter stopped.
Waiting at the gate were four armed U.S. Customs and Border Protection officers, flanked by two plainclothes Miami-Dade detectives.
"Rodrigo Alejandro Villarreal?" one of the detectives called out, his voice echoing over the terminal chatter.
Rodrigo blinked, his face turning pale. "Yes? Is there a problem?"
Before he could take another step, the officers slammed him against the terminal wall. The heavy metallic clink of handcuffs echoed through the gate—a terrifying echo of the deadbolts he had locked three hours prior.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Doña Teresa shrieked, her aristocratic voice cracking as travelers stopped to film the scene on their phones. "Do you know who we are? Unhand my son this instant!"
"Ma'am, step back," the detective barked, pulling out a warrant. "Rodrigo Villarreal, you are being detained under an international provisional arrest warrant issued by the Mexican Federal Authorities, in coordination with Interpol, for attempted homicide by omission, unlawful confinement of a pregnant woman, and domestic abuse."
May you like
Ximena dropped her designer handbag, the very one bought with Valeria’s money.
The detective turned his cold gaze to Teresa and Ximena. "And as for you two? Your visas have just been revoked by the Department of Homeland Security. You are being denied entry into the United States and will be held in a federal holding cell until the next deportation flight back to Mexico. Welcome to Miami."
