Chapter 5 - Shattered Glass
The color drained entirely from Doña Patricia’s face. She staggered backward, grabbing onto a nearby stone pillar for support, her pearl necklace suddenly looking like a heavy noose around her neck.
“You... you lied to us,” Patricia hissed, her voice trembling with venom and disbelief. “For eleven years, you pretended to be a nobody! A part-time apartment broker! You lived under our roof!”
“Under my roof,” I corrected her sharply. “The penthouse in Reforma was bought with my seed capital before we even married. Andrés just added his name to the lease to soothe his fragile male ego, and I let him play lord of the manor because I wanted my daughters to grow up with a father—until tonight.”
At the mention of the girls, Patricia’s expression twisted into pure malice.
“You ruined my party! You humiliated my son over a plate of food? Over some scraps?”
“Scraps?” I laughed, a cold, sharp sound that made several guests who had drifted out to watch the commotion flinch. “You took food away from five-year-old children because they didn't carry your precious family name. You humiliated my daughters in front of ninety people, and your son stood at the head table and raised a glass to it.”
Just then, the glass double doors of the ballroom swung wide open. Uncle Roberto, several aunts, and a dozen business partners stepped out into the courtyard, drawn by the rising tension.
“What is going on out here?” Roberto demanded, looking between Andrés, Patricia, and me. “Andrés, your guests are asking when the toast is, and why these lawyers are—”
“Uncle Roberto!” Andrés cried out, rushing toward him like a drowning man grabbing a straw. “Tell them! Tell Lucía she can't do this! She’s staging a hostile takeover of the family assets!”
Roberto blinked, looking at Licenciado Morales, then down at the papers in Andrés's hands. He grabbed the promissory note and scanned the numbers. As his eyes registered the 5.4-million-peso debt and the collateral signatures, his face turned the color of ash.
“Andrés... you signed this?” Roberto breathed, his voice laced with absolute horror. “You used Villaseñor Textiles inventory as secondary collateral for a personal bridge loan?”
“I had to!” Andrés stammered, sweat pouring down his neck. “The market was tight, and—and Mom said I needed to show liquidity—”
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“You fool!” Roberto roared, shoving Andrés back. “That collateral covers our primary manufacturing plants! If this note is executed right now, the entire family business goes into receivership!”
“It already has,” Morales stated smoothly, stepping forward. “Unless the 5.4 million pesos is paid in full, in cash or certified transfer, within the next ten minutes, Horizonte Capital takes immediate possession of this hacienda and freezes all associated corporate accounts.”
