“I don’t rent, Alejandro,” Elena replied, her voice echoing coldly across the courtyard. “My family owns this entire valley. In fact, my family’s holding company owns a major stake in the bank that funds your family’s real estate business.”
Doña Victoria stepped forward, her voice trembling but still trying to hold onto her pride. “This is a lie! You were just a penniless girl from nothing!”
“I let you believe that because I wanted a husband who loved me for who I was, not my family’s wealth,” Elena said, stepping closer to them. “But you showed me exactly who you are. And while I was playing the quiet housewife, you forgot to look closely at who was quietly backing your family’s business loans.”
The bank representative stepped forward, handing a thick folder to Alejandro.
“Mr. Mendoza,” the representative stated officially. “Due to recent restructuring and a pull-out of primary investment capital by Varela Enterprises, your family’s credit lines have been frozen. The corporate properties in Guadalajara are now under review for foreclosure.”
Alejandro dropped the folder, the papers scattering across the pristine floor. He looked at Elena, his eyes filled with absolute panic. “Elena, please… we can talk about this. We’re family.”
“We were family,” Elena corrected him sharply. She looked past him to the thirty-two stunned, terrified faces of the Mendoza clan who had come to mock her.
She turned her back on them, walking toward the grand dining hall where a lavish feast was prepared—but not for them.
