Elena, you’re scaring me. What have you discovered? The accountant opened a burgundy folder and took out several bank statements marked with yellow sticky notes. This morning, after your call about the divorce, I decided to review all the accounts to prepare the final asset report and found irregularities.
What kind of irregularities? Elena pointed to a line marked on the September statement. Transfers. Damian has been making monthly transfers from the business account to a personal account that is not registered in his name.
Cristina’s heart raced. After everything that had happened in court, there were still more surprises. How much money are we talking about? In the last eight months, around €45,000. Elena flipped through the pages, showing each marked transfer.
Always on the 15th of each month, always the same amount, €5,625. Cristina felt her mouth go dry. That amount wasn’t random; it was exactly her monthly salary at the health center.
“Whose name is the receiving account?” Elena hesitated for a moment before answering. “Ru Díaz Moreno.” The silence that followed was so thick it seemed to have its own weight. Cristina leaned back in her chair, processing the information.
For months, while she worked double shifts at the health center to save money for the baby, her husband had been giving the equivalent of his entire salary to his mistress.
“Is there more?” he asked hoarsely. Elena nodded gravely and opened another section of the folder, “Undeclared Expenses,” an apartment on Diagonal Avenue rented under the company name as a technical office, but which, according to my investigations, is used for other purposes.
I know, that’s where they met. But besides the rent, there are decorating expenses, bills from expensive restaurants, even a jewelry store bill for the prom. Elena pointed to each document, all charged as business entertainment expenses.
Cristina closed her eyes, feeling the betrayal multiply like a hydra. Not only had he cheated on her with another woman, he had used her company, her money, to support his mistress as if she were a princess.
How much in total? Between direct transfers and hidden expenses, nearly €80,000 in eight months. The figure hung in the air like a death sentence. Elena moved a little closer, lowering her voice.
Cristina, this is technically misappropriation. Damián has used company funds for personal expenses without the owner’s authorization. Could we report him? Report him. Cristina’s eyes widened. What would that entail? Criminal charges.
We could be talking about between two and six years in prison, depending on the amount, and she would have to pay back all the money with interest and fines. Cristina slowly got up and went to the window.
Down on Valmes Street, life went on as usual. People were shopping at the pharmacy, students were going in and out of the subway, couples were walking hand in hand—normal lives, without the drama that had consumed theirs for so many months.
Elena, yes, you, what would you do? If you were me, what would you do? Elena took off her glasses and cleaned them carefully before answering. As a manager, I would tell you to protect your interests and those of your son.
As a woman, she paused significantly. As a woman who has seen too many cases like this, I would tell you that sometimes the best revenge isn’t the one that destroys the other person, but the one that builds you up.
Cristina nodded slowly, stroking her belly. “I need to think. I need to talk to someone.” “Of course, but Cristina, is there anything else you need to know?” Elena put her glasses back on. “This morning after the appointment, Ru Díaz called asking if he could access the company accounts to help with the administrative management.”
Seriously, Cristina let out a bitter laugh. It hasn’t even been three hours since she found out Damian has nothing, and she’s already trying to get her hands on my money.
I told her that only the company owner could authorize those accesses, but she insisted. She even mentioned that she could convince Damian to make some changes to the company structure.
Cristina turned to Elena with an expression the manager had never seen on her face before. She was no longer the sweet, trusting physiotherapist she had known years before. She was a woman who had learned, perhaps too late, that in this world you had to know how to stand up for yourself.
Leave a Comment