Chapter 4 - The Ghost from the PastMariana staggered backward as Mateo Silva crossed the threshold of the house. The sight of him made the color drain entirely from her face.
She knew that face. Everyone in Guadalajara’s old industrial circle knew that face. Mateo Silva was the ruthless real estate tycoon who had bought out half the commercial district—and a man who had famously sworn public vengeance against Roberto Cárdenas twenty years ago over a ruined business deal.
Or so the public believed.
—Mateo? —Mariana choked out, her hands trembling as she clutched her silk robe—. What are you doing here? You... you’re the buyer? You bought our house?
Mateo stopped in the center of the living room, looking around at the walls where family portraits had just been unceremoniously dumped into cardboard boxes. He looked down at the floor, then back at Mariana with absolute disdain.
—Your house, Mariana? —Mateo’s voice was ice cold—. You couldn't build a doghouse, let alone own a single brick of this estate.
—You... you tricked us! —Sergio screamed, lunging forward, but two police officers instantly grabbed his arms, twisting them behind his back and slamming him face-first against the living room wall. —You set us up! The buyer was supposed to be a shell company! You were supposed to be miles away!
—I was never miles away, Morales —Mateo said, walking slowly toward Sergio until they were inches apart—. For eight years, I have been waiting for the exact moment your greed would finally outrun your intelligence. And your wonderful wife delivered you straight to me on a silver platter.
—Make it make sense! —Mariana sobbed, collapsing onto her knees on the cold floor, the pearls around her neck catching the harsh light of the hallway lamp—. Why would you buy a house from us just to arrest us?!
Mateo turned around, pulling a crisp, folded document from his breast pocket. He didn't open it; he let it dangle between two fingers.
— Because, my dear girl... your father didn't hate me. Twenty years ago, Roberto Cárdenas and I signed a secret pact to protect his family from the exact parasite that entered his home: your husband.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
—Your father knew Sergio was a gambler, a thief, and a failure —Mateo continued, his eyes locking onto Mariana’s shattered expression—. He knew that the moment he died, Sergio would manipulate you into selling everything. So, what did Roberto do? He transferred the absolute legal ownership of this land to a trust managed exclusively by me.
Mateo smiled, a dark, triumphant expression.
—When you sold the house to my shell company, you didn't execute a valid real estate transaction. You executed an illegal transfer of trust assets without authorization. Which means under Mexican federal law... you just committed grand theft against a protected estate.
Sergio let out a desperate, guttural howl from the wall.
—You’re lying! We have the money! We deposited the three million pesos into our joint account! We can give it back!
Mateo chuckled darkly.
May you like
—Too late, Morales. The bank accounts associated with that transaction were flagged for money laundering sixty seconds after the wire cleared. Your accounts are frozen. Every single cent is gone.
And just like that, the empire built on betrayal crumbled into dust in less than five minutes.
