“Okay,” I said calmly. “I’ll leave.”
Ricardo looked slightly surprised, as if he had been geared up for a long argument. “Good. Finally, some common sense.”
I turned toward the door, but paused for a second. “Just to be clear, Ricardo—are you telling me to leave my own property?”
“Exactly.”
“And you, Camila? Do you agree with this?”
My sister avoided my eyes once again. “It’s only a weekend, Valeria. Don’t be so dramatic.”
I nodded slowly, absorbing their betrayal. Inside my mind, I was already planning my next move with cold precision. “Alright,” I said. “Enjoy your weekend.”
I walked out, leaving the front door wide open behind me. When I got into my car, I could still hear the sound of their laughter drifting from inside the house. They thought they had won. They thought I would simply accept the humiliation and drive away like I always had. They had no idea what was about to happen.
I drove exactly three minutes down the road before pulling into a small roadside gas station. My hands were shaking—not from any fear, but from pure, unadulterated adrenaline. I took out my phone and began making calls.
First, I called my lawyer in Veracruz. Then, I called the property manager of the beach house. And finally, I dialed a number I truly hoped I would never have to contact. The phone rang only twice before a voice picked up.
