Chapter 3 - The Illusions of Coyoacán
"This is a mistake!" Graciela shouted, rushing to the door, her voice trembling as she snatched the documents from Mauricio's frozen hands. "I am Arturo’s widow! This house is mine! We lived here for twenty-five years!"
The legal assistant, a woman named Sofia, looked at Graciela with professional detachment. "Mrs. Sandoval, if you read page four of your late husband’s will, you will find that the property was never part of the marital estate. It was inherited by Don Arturo through his mother’s lineage and placed into a protected trust when Valeria turned eighteen. You were granted conditional residency, dependent on your sole occupancy and the maintenance of the structure. The moment you permitted non-lineage individuals to reside here without the beneficiary's consent, the trust automatically triggered a mandatory asset protection clause."
"Non-lineage?" Mauricio hissed, his charming facade completely slipping, revealing the predatory glare underneath. "I am her husband!"
"And you have no legal claim to this stone or this soil, Mr. Mendoza," Sofia replied calmly. "Furthermore, a restraining order has been filed on behalf of Valeria Sandoval. If any member of this household attempts to contact her, enter her place of work, or touch her registered vehicle, you will be arrested immediately. The seventy-two hours began at 9:00 AM. We suggest you start packing."
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The heavy oak door closed, leaving the three of them standing in the foyer. The antique chandelier overhead suddenly flickered, the hum of the electricity dying out completely as the service termination took effect.
The house was plunging into darkness, and the clock was ticking.
