Chapter 3 - THE EVICTION NOTICEBy noon, Mateo’s private courier service delivered formal legal documents to the apartment.
Because the lease for the luxury high-rise was exclusively under my corporate executive package and my personal credit history, the apartment belonged strictly to me. Daniel, Carmen, and Valeria were legally classified as permissive occupants with zero tenancy rights.
Two federal court bailiffs, accompanied by building security, escorted Mateo and me to the front door of my apartment.
I inserted my key and pushed the door open.
The lingering scent of yesterday's expensive seafood had been replaced by the chaotic panic of trapped rats.
Carmen was pacing the living room, wringing her hands, while Valeria sat on the plush velvet sofa scrolling frantically through her phone, her face pale. Daniel stood by the kitchen island, holding an empty espresso cup like a weapon.
"Mariana!" Daniel barked, stepping forward. "What is the meaning of these men in uniform? And why are security guards standing in our hallway?"
I didn't answer him. I stepped aside, letting Mateo walk into the center of the room holding a thick Manila folder.
"Good afternoon," Mateo announced loudly, his voice echoing off the hardwood floors. "I am Attorney Mateo Silva, representing Mrs. Mariana Fuentes. You are all being served with three distinct legal instruments."
He laid the first document on the glass coffee table.
"First: A Notice of Immediate Revocation of Permissive Occupancy and Demand to Vacate. You have exactly forty-eight hours to remove your personal belongings from this premises. The locks will be changed permanently on Thursday at 12:00 PM."
Valeria dropped her phone. It clattered loudly against the floor. "Vacate?! Are you insane? Where are we supposed to go? This is our home!"
"This is my home," I corrected her, stepping into the room with Camila safely holding my hand. My daughter looked around curiously, unafraid now that she was protected. "You lived here rent-free, ate my food, wore my clothes, and mocked my child while she sat on a cold floor with a piece of stale bread. The free ride is over."
Carmen lunged forward, her face twisted in primal rage, pointing a shaky, manicured finger straight at my face.
"You miserable cow! You think you can throw us out? We are family! Daniel is your husband! You are nothing without this family name!"
"Family doesn't starve a three-year-old child to gorge themselves on lobster," I replied coldly. "And as for the second legal notice—" Mateo held up the second paper "—it is a formal petition for divorce, coupled with a demand for immediate financial restitution totaling 1,250,000 pesos in mismanaged household funds."
Daniel turned a ghastly shade of white. He staggered backward, catching himself against the kitchen counter.
"Restitution... restitution for what? That was our joint living allowance!"
"Under Mexican law, when funds are systematically channeled to support extended family members under false pretenses of household necessity while basic child welfare is neglected, it constitutes financial dissipation of assets," Mateo stated professionally. "Every receipt, every transfer, every luxury purchase made on Mariana’s corporate card by Carmen and Valeria has been documented for the family court judge."
Valeria burst into hysterical tears, burying her face in her hands. "Mommy... my Instagram followers... my brand deals... if people see us moving out of a luxury high-rise, my life is ruined!"
Carmen stood frozen, the reality of their impending destitution finally crashing through her thick entitlement.
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"You'll ruin us," Carmen whispered, staring at me with pure, unadulterated hatred.
"No, Carmen," I said, turning toward the door with Camila in my arms. "I'm just letting you experience the discipline you preach."
