Chapter 2: The Crash That Changed Everything

The tremendous crash echoed through the mansion like an explosion.

Andrés jumped from the couch and ran toward the kitchen.

“What the hell was that?”

Valeria spun around just in time to see thousands of dollars' worth of designer handbags, watches, and jewelry scattered across the marble floor.

The expensive Italian display cabinet lay shattered.

Glass covered the room.

A Gucci purse hung from a broken shelf.

A Rolex box rested upside down in a puddle of tomato soup.

“Elena!” Valeria screamed.

I stood quietly beside the cabinet, one hand resting on the cast-iron pot.

The same pot she had mocked me for using.

The same pot she claimed made me look old-fashioned.

“What have you done?” she shouted.

I looked around slowly.

“Making changes,” I replied.

Andrés stared at the destruction.

“Mom, are you insane?”

I almost laughed.

The first question he asked was about furniture.

Not the bruise on my forehead.

Not the blood running down my temple.

Not what his wife had done.

Furniture.

Valeria rushed toward her jewelry.

“My bags!”

“My watches!”

“My God, do you know how much these cost?”

“Yes,” I said calmly.

“I paid for most of them.”

The room became silent.

Valeria froze.

Andrés blinked.

“What?”

I walked to the kitchen drawer and removed a thick folder.

For years, I had kept copies of every financial document.

Every trust record.

Every property deed.

Every bank statement.

I placed the folder on the counter.

Then I pushed it toward my son.

“You should read those.”

Andrés opened the folder.

The color drained from his face.

Because every page told the same story.

The mansion belonged to Elena Mendoza.

Not Andrés.

Not Valeria.

Me.

The silence that followed was heavier than any argument.

For the first time, Valeria looked afraid.