Chapter 8 - The Cornered RatsBy 4:00 PM, the eviction notice deadline was looming over the Gutierrez family like a guillotine.
I took an early departure from my office, met Victoria at her legal chambers, and together with two court-appointed sheriff deputies, we drove back to my four-bedroom apartment to oversee the formal locks-change and eviction.
When we stepped out of the elevator on the fourth floor, the hallway was a complete disaster area.
Cardboard boxes, overflowing trash bags, loose clothing, and cheap plastic storage bins were piled high against the carpeted walls.
Carmen sat on top of a turned-over suitcase, weeping hysterically into her handkerchief, while her husband—a frail, pale man named Roberto—sat in a folding chair, looking completely bewildered and exhausted.
Valeria was violently shoving designer shoes into a duffel bag, screaming at Daniel, who was pacing back and forth, frantically dialing on his dead phone.
When the elevator doors opened and I stepped out, flanked by the two heavy-set sheriff deputies, all four of them froze.
Carmen instantly leaped to her feet, her handkerchief dropping to the floor, her face twisting into a hideous mask of rage.
"YOU MONSTER!" Carmen shrieked, charging down the hallway toward me. "You threw us out on the street! Look at my husband! He is sick! You ruined our lives!"
One of the sheriff deputies immediately stepped into her path, extending a firm arm. "Ma'am, step back! Keep your distance from the petitioner!"
Carmen halted, trembling with impotent fury, pointing a shaking finger at me. "I raised your husband! I took care of your daughter! And this is how you repay me?! Throwing an old woman into the dirt?!"
I stepped past the deputy, looking down at Carmen with pure, unadulterated contempt.
"You didn't take care of my daughter, Carmen," I said, my voice echoing clearly down the hallway. "You starved her, locked her on a balcony, and called it discipline while you gorged on lobster bought with my money."
"It was just bread!" Valeria screamed from behind her boxes. "She liked the bread!"
"Shut up, Valeria!" Daniel snapped, grabbing his sister's arm before turning back to me with wide, bloodshot eyes. "Mariana... please. Look at my dad. He has nowhere to go. My mother’s sister lives in a tiny two-bedroom house two hours away... we can't fit all our stuff there!"
"That sounds like a personal problem, Daniel," I replied neutrally.
The locksmith stepped forward, holding a heavy toolbox, and immediately went to work drilling out the deadbolts on the front door of the apartment.
Daniel watched the brass lock fall onto the floor with a hollow CLANG.
He took a desperate step toward me, dropping to his knees on the hallway carpet, grabbing the hem of my trousers. "Mariana... I’m begging you! I'm your husband! I made a mistake! I should have defended Camila! I'll never let my mother touch her again! Just let us stay in the apartment! Please!"
I looked down at the man I had once loved.
A spineless, pathetic parasite kneeling in a public hallway, weeping not because he felt guilty for hurting my child, but because his gravy train had finally crashed into a wall.
I slowly pulled my leg back, freeing my trousers from his grasp.
"You're not a husband, Daniel," I said softly. "You're a leech. And your time is up."
At that exact moment, Victoria pulled a fresh legal document from her portfolio and slapped it directly onto Daniel's chest.
"What's this?" Daniel whimpered, looking down at the paper.
"That," Victoria announced smoothly, "is a formal subpoena from the State District Attorney's Office. You, your mother, and your sister are being formally investigated for grand embezzlement and wire fraud regarding Geraldine Enterprises LLC."
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Carmen’s jaw dropped. The color drained completely from her face. "G-Geraldine... Enterprises?"
"We know about the Puerto Vallarta condo, Carmen," I whispered, leaning down so only she could hear me. "And by next Friday, the deed will belong entirely to me."
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