I turned toward the door, but paused.

“Just to be clear, Ricardo—are you telling me to leave my own property?”

“Exactly.”

“And you, Camila? Do you agree?”

My sister avoided my eyes again.

“It’s only a weekend, Valeria. Don’t be dramatic.”

I nodded slowly.

Inside my mind, I was already planning my next move.

“Alright,” I said.
“Enjoy your weekend.”

I walked out, leaving the door wide open behind me.

When I got into my car, I could still hear their laughter inside the house.

They thought they had won.

They thought I would accept the humiliation like I always had.

They had no idea what was about to happen.

I drove exactly three minutes before pulling into a small roadside gas station.

My hands were shaking—not from fear, but from pure adrenaline.

I took out my phone.

And I began making calls.

First, my lawyer in Veracruz.

Then the property manager of the beach house.

And finally, someone I truly hoped I would never have to contact.

The phone rang twice.

“Private Security North Coast, Captain Morales speaking.”

I took a breath.