Chapter 4 - The Boardroom Execution
The boardroom exploded into absolute chaos.
"This is ridiculous!" Mauricio screamed, standing up and pointing a shaking finger at me. "She’s insane! Look at her! She’s fabricating everything because I demanded a divorce! I have the signed power-of-attorney right here!"
"You mean the document you forced my hand over while your mother laced my drinks with industrial solvent?" I replied, stepping closer, resting my hands on the back of Hector's chair. "We have eighty-four hours of high-definition audio and video recordings from the penthouse, Mauricio. We watched you, your mother, and your mistress plan my death in my own dining room."
Camila stood up quickly, grabbing her designer bag, her eyes darting toward the exit. "I have nothing to do with this! I’m just his partner! I don't know anything about poison!"
"Sit down, Camila," Prosecutor Beltrán commanded, as two officers stepped in front of the doors. "Your phone records show sixty-two encrypted transmissions to Fausto Treviño over the last fortnight. You were feeding him Norte Firme’s proprietary bidding algorithms in exchange for offshore trust payments."
Mauricio turned to Camila, his eyes widening in confusion. "What? What are you talking about? What does Fausto have to do with this?"
I laughed, a rich, cold sound that echoed off the mahogany walls.
"Oh, Mauricio," I sighed, pulling the blue folder from Julian’s briefcase and tossing it onto the center of the table. "You really believed you were the architect of this grand family, didn't you? You threw me into the corridor, boasted about your three young sons who would carry on your name, and called me a barren nobody."
I opened the blue folder to the second page and slid the certified medical report directly in front of his face.
"Read it, Mauricio," I said softly.
Mauricio stared at the paper. His eyes scanned the medical terminology, the diagnosis from ten years ago, the stamp of the state medical board.
"This... this is fake," he stammered, sweat breaking out across his forehead. "I... I have three sons! Camila gave me three sons!"
"You have azoospermia, Mauricio," I said, leaning down so my face was inches from his. "You were rendered completely sterile at age twelve. You knew it when you married me. You spent ten years watching me weep over negative pregnancy tests, letting your mother accuse me of failing you, while you knew you could never father a child."
Mauricio looked up at Camila, his face twisted in disbelief and horror. "Camila... tell her she’s lying! Tell her the boys are mine!"
Camila looked away, crossing her arms, her silence more deafening than a gunshot.
"She can't tell you that, Mauricio," I continued, tossing the DNA matching profiles onto his lap. "Because your three precious sons aren't yours. Their biological father is Fausto Treviño—the man who sent Camila to ruin you, steal my company, and make a laughingstock of your entire existence."
Mauricio’s knees buckled. He collapsed back into his executive chair, staring at the pages as if they were written in fire.
Beside him, Elvira let out a strangled, breathless gasp, her face turning pale as she clutched her chest. "No... my grandsons... my blood..."
"They aren't your blood, Elvira," I said coldly, looking down at the woman who had poisoned me for years. "You poisoned the woman who fed you, housed you, and paid your medical bills—all to leave my fortune to Fausto Treviño’s bastard children."
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"Handcuff them," Prosecutor Beltrán ordered.
The police officers moved in swiftly. Metallic clicks filled the room as Mauricio, Elvira, and Camila were pulled from their seats. Mauricio didn't resist. He stared blankly at the floor, completely broken, a husk of a man who had traded his soul for a kingdom made of illusion.
