I called Lidia with shaking hands, still praying it was some sick, elaborate joke.
It wasn’t.
“Sofía, accept reality,” she said coldly, not even pretending to sound sorry. “You couldn’t give my son children. Valeria is pregnant with a boy. She is a real woman. Don’t stand in their way. Be graceful for once.”
Something inside me didn’t break into tears.
It broke into crystal-clear, ice-cold clarity.
They thought I was weak. They thought I would keep financing their betrayal because I was too afraid to be alone. They thought my love for Mauricio would make me a eternal cash machine even after humiliation.
They forgot one very important detail.
**Everything** was in my name.
The mansion. The cars. The investment portfolios. The company shares I had gifted him. The bank accounts. Even the credit cards he loved to wave around.
That same night, I checked into a penthouse suite at the Four Seasons in Mexico City and called my lawyer, Roberto Mendoza, who had been with me since I built the company from nothing twelve years ago.
“Roberto, I need you to move fast. Sell the house in Bosques de las Lomas immediately. I don’t care if we take a small loss — get it done by tomorrow morning. Move every peso into my personal offshore account.”
I gave him more instructions without hesitation:
- Freeze every joint account.
- Cancel every credit card linked to Mauricio.
- Change all security codes and locks.
- Revoke his access to every company vehicle and property.
- Prepare divorce papers citing adultery and abandonment.
By sunrise, the machinery of my revenge was already in motion.
