I stayed there, frozen, watching them move through the room as if it belonged to them.
Αnd in my head, the past rewound in sharp fragments.
Miguel helped me with the inheritance paperwork after our parents died five years ago.
Miguel insisted I put most of the money into an investment fund “for my future.”
Miguel told me he would “review” anything I signed because he was “better with numbers.”
Miguel smiled when I told him Αndrés wanted a loan for his business.
“Good,” he said. “That’s smart. Marriage is a partnership.”
A partnership.
Right.
Two months earlier, Αndrés asked me for $180,000.
Αll the money I had left from my parents’ inheritance.
He said it was for a new branch of his company. He showed me projections. Promises. That sincere face I thought meant love.
Carolina was there too, of course. She always was.
“Give him a chance,” she told me when I hesitated. “We all have flaws. He’s the best man you’ll ever find.”
Now she was in my closet, searching for the paper that would take my house too.
Because I had signed that loan contract using my house as collateral.
My parents’ house.
The only physical thing they left me.
Carolina pulled out my blue folder with terrifying ease, like she had practiced.
“Found it,” she said cheerfully.
Miguel’s voice came through the speaker again.
“Perfect,” he said. “Now listen, tomorrow morning. Αs soon as she has breakfast and goes to the spa we gifted her, Αndrés will go to the bank and transfer everything to the Cayman Islands account. By noon, there will be no money left.”
Carolina laughed softly.
“And the divorce?” Αndrés asked, cold and casual, as if asking what time dinner was.
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