Chapter 4: The House of Cards
The room went silent. The music stopped. Vivian’s smile faltered, her hand gripping the microphone.
"What are you talking about?" she hissed.
Alejandro pulled out his phone. He tapped a button. The large projection screens that were meant to show company growth charts suddenly flickered to life.
They showed bank transfers. Hundreds of them. Vivian’s face appeared in high-definition video, recorded in secret—her admitting to kidnapping, to forging documents, to sabotaging the company’s servers.
"You didn't manage the household, Vivian," Alejandro said, his voice cold as the grave. "You dismantled a life. You didn't 'find' a maid. You held my wife hostage for three years."
Vivian turned, her face pale, her eyes darting to the exits. Security guards, hired by Alejandro, were already blocking the doors.
"Freeze every account connected to Vivian Moretti," Alejandro commanded into his phone.
Vivian’s phone buzzed in her hand. Her eyes widened as she checked her banking app, watching as every cent she had stolen began to drain away, back into the company accounts. The color drained from her face. She looked at the crowd—the people she had tried to impress—and saw only disgust.
"You made my wife," Alejandro said, stepping closer, his shadow falling over her, "scrub the floors of her own house. You made her eat scraps while you drank wine bought with her money."
"She was nothing!" Vivian shrieked, finally breaking. "She was a weak, pathetic woman who didn't deserve any of this! I did the work! I ran the company! I deserved it!"
"You deserved nothing," Alejandro said. "You stole a life, but you forgot that the life belonged to someone who was stronger than you ever were."
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He turned toward the kitchen. "Elena."
The maid uniform dropped to the floor. Elena stepped out. She wore a simple black dress she had hidden away, her head held high, her spine straight. She walked into the light, and for the first time in three years, the mansion felt like home.
