Chapter 4 - The Estate
Two days later, the rain had cleared, leaving Mexico City under a blinding, merciless sun.
At the Mendoza estate in San Pedro Garza García, Nuevo León—a sprawling fortress of stone, glass, and immaculate gardens surrounded by towering security walls—Valeria sat on the terrace overlooking the valley. She wore a simple white linen dress, her hair tied back, sipping black coffee as the morning breeze rustled the bougainvillea.
Camila was inside the expansive playroom, laughing as her older cousins built an enormous castle out of imported wooden blocks, completely unfazed by the seismic shift in her universe. To a six-year-old, mommy was simply home, and mommy was safe.
Sebastián walked out onto the terrace, tossing a heavy leather briefcase onto the glass table with a dull thud.
“The liquidators finished clearing out Adrián’s penthouse this morning,” Sebastián said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “He tried to board a private flight to Panama at dawn. Immigration stopped him at Toluca airport before he even reached the tarmac.”
Valeria didn’t look up from her coffee cup. “Is he in custody?”
“Federal holding cell,” Sebastián replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Pending trial for tax fraud, breach of fiduciary duty, and corporate asset stripping. The banks are seizing his cars, his accounts, and every single suit he bought with our money. Within a week, his name will be scrubbed from the business registry entirely.”
Valeria finally raised her eyes, her gaze steady and clear. “Did he ask for me?”
“He begged,” Sebastián scoffed, a bitter smile touching the corner of his mouth. “He screamed your name until the guards tasered him. He kept saying it was all a misunderstanding, that he still loves you, that he’ll get rid of Mariana and the boy.”
“He doesn’t even understand what he lost, does he?” Valeria murmured, looking out toward the mountains. “He thought my silence meant weakness. He thought my lack of vanity meant I had no foundation.”
“People like Adrián only understand power when it’s used to crush them,” Sebastián said firmly, placing a warm hand over hers. “You gave him seven years, Vale. You gave him your name, your protection, and your patience. He threw it away for a cheap mistress and a social climber.”
Valeria stood up, smoothing her dress. “I didn’t lose seven years, Sebastián. I learned a very valuable lesson about who I am when the crown is removed.”
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“What are you going to do now?”
“I’m going to take Camila to the park in Chapultepec,” Valeria said with a faint, genuine smile. “And this time, we’re going to make a new medal. One that doesn’t celebrate a fraud.”
