Chapter 9 - Ofelia The Mother-In-Law Intervenes With Cruel Words
I carried the steaming porcelain teacup down the dim hallway toward the guest bedroom at the rear of the house. The door was slightly ajar, casting a narrow strip of warm yellow light across the dark hardwood floor. Without knocking, I pushed the door open and stepped into the suffocatingly warm, lavender-scented bedroom. Ofelia sat propped up against a mountain of plush silk pillows, draped in an expensive cashmere shawl I had bought her for Mother's Day.
She didn't even bother looking up from her tablet computer as I placed the teacup carefully on her bedside table. "You took your sweet time, Laura. The water is practically lukewarm," Ofelia complained in Spanish without a hint of gratitude.
"Apologies, Ofelia. Traffic was heavy and Mark kept me busy downstairs," I replied calmly in fluent Spanish. Ofelia finally raised her heavily lined face, her sharp dark eyes narrowing behind her gold-rimmed designer reading glasses.
"You look different today, Laura. Too calm. Women your age usually get hysterical when their husbands neglect them," she mocked cruelly. I kept my hands clasped loosely in front of my apron, refusing to give her the satisfaction of an angry reaction.
"Neglect is a strong word, Ofelia. I prefer to think of it as giving people enough rope to hang themselves," I answered evenly. Ofelia froze, her bony fingers tightening around her tablet as if my words carried a hidden, ominous double meaning.
"What is that supposed to mean? Are you questioning my son's hard work?" she snapped defensively, her voice rising in pitch. "I would never question Mark's work ethic, Ofelia. After all, he learned everything about ambition from family," I replied smoothly.
Ofelia stared at me with sudden suspicion, her maternal protectiveness mixing with a flash of underlying guilt. "My son is a genius. He built Crestview Developments into a powerhouse while you sat at home doing yoga," she scoffed.
"Is that why Apex Horizon LLC lists your home address as its primary corporate mailing location?" I asked quietly. Ofelia’s face drained of color so fast she looked like a ghost under the bedside lamp illumination.
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"I don't know what foolish nonsense you're babbling about, Laura, but get out of my room right now," she shrieked. I didn't flinch; I simply smiled down at the aging woman who had helped loot my father's legacy.
"Drink your tea, Ofelia. You're going to need all your strength for the legal battles ahead," I whispered, turning on my heel. I walked out of the room, leaving the door wide open behind me as Ofelia began hyperventilating in panic.
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