Chapter 3 - The Cold Reality of Morning
The next morning, the sun rose brilliantly over the luxurious mansion in Las Lomas. Inside, the house was a disaster zone of empty bottles, half-eaten trays of expensive food, and the heavy stench of stale alcohol.
Diego woke up at 10:00 AM with a blinding headache. He stumbled out of the master bedroom, wrapped in a silk bathrobe he couldn't afford, feeling a sense of immense pride. He was finally a man of status. His mother, Doña Amparo, was already in the kitchen, demanding that the two remaining maids clean faster.
"Diego, my son!" Doña Amparo beamed, holding a cup of coffee. "You are truly a king. Look at this place! Finally, a house worthy of the Robles name. Don't worry about that ungrateful wife of yours. She will come crawling back today. She has no money, no family, and no choice."
"I know, Ma," Diego groaned, rubbing his temples. "I'll let her suffer for a few days before I let her back in. She needs to learn to respect you."
Before Doña Amparo could reply, the heavy front doorbell rang aggressively.
Diego frowned. "Are the decorators back?"
He walked down the grand grand marble staircase and opened the massive front door. Instead of decorators, he was met by three men in sharp, dark suits, accompanied by two uniformed private security officers. The man in the center held a thick leather folder.
"Diego Robles?" the man asked, his voice completely devoid of warmth.
"Yes? Who are you? If you're looking for an autograph or an interview about the property—"
"I am Licenciado Ramos, legal representative for Altius Luxury Rentals," the man interrupted, stepping past Diego into the foyer without invitation. "We are here to execute an immediate eviction notice and asset seizure."
Diego’s blood ran cold. The hangover vanished instantly, replaced by a wave of pure panic. "What? What are you talking about? I rented this house for six months! I paid the deposit!"
Doña Amparo rushed into the foyer, her face twisted in anger. "Hey! Who do you think you are entering my son's mansion like this? Get out before I call the police!"
Licenciado Ramos didn't even look at her. He opened the folder and handed a document to Diego. "Mr. Robles, your initial deposit check of 500,000 pesos bounced two days ago due to insufficient funds. Furthermore, our legal department received an anonymous tip this morning containing your actual bank statements and an audit of your corporate accounts, proving you used fraudulent documents to secure the lease. The owner of this property has cancelled the contract effective immediately."
"No, no, there's a mistake!" Diego stammered, his hands shaking violently as he looked at the paper. "Give me twenty-four hours! I can get the money!"
"You have two hours to pack your personal belongings," Ramos said coldly. "Anything left behind, including the furniture you rented on credit, will be seized. Security, please ensure they comply."
"You can't do this!" Doña Amparo screamed, grabbing Ramos’s arm. "My son is a multi-millionaire! He is a top executive!"
"Your son is a fraud, señora," Ramos said, brushing her hand off with disgust. "And if you don't start packing, the police will help you move."
As Diego stood paralyzed in the foyer, his phone rang. It was his boss, the regional director of the financial firm where he worked. Diego answered with a trembling voice. "Sir, good morning—"
"Don't 'good morning' me, Diego!" his boss roared, his voice trembling with fury. "An hour ago, an external audit report was delivered directly to the CEO’s desk. Every single embezzlement trick you pulled over the last year was detailed with receipts, bank transfers, and forged signatures. The board has already filed criminal charges with the Federal Prosecutor's Office. You are fired, Diego. Do not come to the office. The police are already looking for you."
The phone went dead.
Diego dropped the device. It shattered against the imported marble floor—the very floor he had bragged about owning just twelve hours ago. He looked at his mother, his face completely pale.
"Diego? What's happening?" Doña Amparo asked, her voice finally showing fear. "Tell them who you are! Tell them about your money!"
"I don't have any money, Ma," Diego whispered, his voice cracking. "It was all a lie. We have to go. Now."
As they were forced out onto the sidewalk two hours later, carrying nothing but a few suitcases, a sleek black Mercedes SUV pulled up to the curb. The tinted window rolled down slowly.
Sitting in the back seat, looking radiant, elegant, and completely composed, was Sofía. She was wearing a tailored designer suit, her hair perfectly styled. Beside her were Emilia and Camila, both eating ice cream, looking happy and safe.
Doña Amparo gasped, rushing to the car window. "Sofía! Thank God! Tell these men to stop! Speak to your real estate contacts! Help your husband!"
Sofía looked at her mother-in-law with an icy detachment that made the older woman freeze.
"I am speaking to my contacts, Amparo," Sofía said, her voice smooth and dangerous. "In fact, I am the one who bought this house from Altius Luxury Rentals this morning. The property now belongs entirely to my firm."
Diego pushed his mother aside, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You? How? You're just a low-level agent! Where did you get this kind of money?!"
Sofía smiled, a beautiful, devastating expression. "I was never a low-level agent, Diego. I am the founder and majority shareholder of Vanguardia Inmobiliaria. I make in a week what you tried to steal in a year. I hid it because I thought you loved me. But you just wanted a victim."
She rolled up the window halfway, then paused, looking down at the plastic container of leftovers Diego was holding—the only thing Doña Amparo had managed to grab from the kitchen.
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"If you're hungry, Diego," Sofía said, echoing the exact words used against her daughters the night before, "let your mother pick up whatever is left. Because in the real world, frauds don't sit at the big table."
The window rolled up completely, and the Mercedes drove away, leaving Diego and his mother standing on the pavement in the scorching sun, surrounded by their lies.
