Chapter 2 - The Midnight Knock
By Monday morning, the illusion of perfection was already showing hairline cracks. Leticia Rivas did not know how to manage money; she only knew how to spend it. For twenty years, she had relied on the myth of her aristocratic bloodline to keep creditors at bay, living in a gilded cage built on unpaid mortgages, deferred maintenance loans, and exorbitant credit card debt.
At 8:30 AM, while Paulina was busy posting curated photos of the Easter feast on social media with the caption “Family, tradition, and elegance,” the landline telephone in the hallway began to ring.
It rang once. It rang twice. Then it rang continuously.
Leticia frowned, adjusting her silk bathrobe as she stepped out of her master bedroom. She picked up the receiver with an air of aristocratic annoyance.
“Hello? Who is calling this early?”
“Mrs. Rivas? This is the legal collections department of Banco Mercantil del Valle,” a flat, robotic voice replied. “We are calling regarding loan account number 884-90-XC, secured against the property located at Avenida San Ángel 412. Your automatic monthly payment, scheduled for processing at midnight, has been rejected due to insufficient funds and the total revocation of the underlying financial trust.”
Leticia’s breath hitched. For a second, the world around her seemed to tilt on its axis.
“There has been a mistake,” she snapped, her voice rising an octave. “That account is perpetually backed by our family’s institutional reserves. Speak to my financial administrator immediately!”
“There is no administrator on file, Mrs. Rivas,” the bank representative replied coldly. “Furthermore, our records indicate that all auxiliary debt-servicing payments—which have mysteriously kept this property out of foreclosure for the past nine years—were being funneled through a private corporate entity. That entity dissolved its guarantees at 11:45 PM last night. You are currently in default of ninety-two million pesos. If the balance is not settled in full within forty-eight hours, the bank will initiate immediate foreclosure proceedings and public auction.”
The phone slipped from Leticia’s trembling fingers, clattering against the Spanish tiles of the foyer.
May you like
Ninety-two million pesos.
She didn’t have ninety-two pesos in liquid cash. Her entire wealth was tied up in porcelain, art pieces that couldn’t be liquidated overnight, and a name that bankers no longer accepted as collateral.
