Chapter 3: The Lockout
The morning unfolded with clinical precision. At 10:00 AM, the company SUV—which Alejandro drove like he owned the company—was pulled over by a repo service while he was attempting to pick up Teresa for a "victory brunch." He called me, screaming, his voice cracking with rage.
"You’re making a mistake!" he bellowed. "Do you know who I am? I’m the VP of Apex!"
"You were the VP of Apex," I corrected, my voice calm. "And currently, you’re a man with no transport. You might want to call an Uber. Or your mother."
I didn't stay to watch the fallout. I had moved to a hotel suite downtown—one I owned—to give the locksmiths and the security team space to do their work. I spent the afternoon in meetings, finalizing the restructuring of my department. For the first time in years, the board meetings were productive. Without Alejandro there to sabotage projects or alienate clients, the mood was electric. We were actually doing business.
At 12:15 PM, my phone buzzed. It was the security feed from the front door of the mansion.
Teresa was there. She was holding a grocery bag, humming to herself, her key already in her hand. She approached the door with the confidence of a queen returning to her throne. She inserted the key. It didn't turn. She tried again, wiggling it, her expression shifting from annoyance to confusion.
Then, she knocked. Hard.
She turned and looked at the security camera, waving her hand as if she could command it to open the door. "Elena! Open this door! I know you’re in there!"
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She reached for her phone, presumably calling Alejandro. I watched the video, sipping tea. She looked smaller, somehow. The air of superiority was dissipating, replaced by the raw, ugly reality of someone who had never actually had a key to anything in her life—she had only been borrowing mine.
I didn't answer. I didn't engage. I just watched as she paced the porch, realizing that the "worthless" woman had finally stopped paying for her lifestyle. She didn't just lose the house; she lost the illusion that she was the matriarch of a dynasty. She was just a guest who had overstayed her welcome, and the landlord was done.
