I looked straight at her.
“Then nobody should mind if someone reviews it.”
The room became silent.
Rodrigo barely spoke to me for the next three hours.
It was the first time I saw the punishment Patricia had described.
The following morning, he was affectionate again.
Flowers.
Breakfast.
Messages.
Then another folder appeared.
I didn’t sign that one either.
Three days later, Fernanda called.
“Mariana, we found something.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“A financial broker requested property registry information on your apartment.”
“Who?”
“Daniel Murillo.”
I knew that name.
Daniel was Rodrigo’s friend.
Fernanda continued.
“There’s something worse. Someone submitted a copy of your INE and a document that supposedly authorizes them to begin evaluating the apartment for a loan.”
I felt hollow inside.
“I never authorized that.”
“I know.”
She sent me the document.
My name appeared at the bottom.
Below it was a signature.
It looked like mine.
But it wasn’t.
Rodrigo was no longer preparing to pressure me.
He had already started acting without my consent.
That evening, I heard Rodrigo talking to Daniel on the terrace.
I didn’t need to hide.
I placed my phone inside a flowerpot nearby and started recording.
“This is getting complicated,” Rodrigo said.
Daniel answered, “Without her signature, you cannot finalize the mortgage.”
“That’s why I need you to complete as much as possible first.”
“And then?”
“I’ll handle the rest.”
“How much do you actually owe?”
There was silence.
Then Rodrigo lowered his voice.
“Eight-point-two million.”
I grabbed the wall.
8.2 million pesos.
He had never mentioned any debt remotely close to that amount.
Daniel swore.
Rodrigo continued.
“If we can get five million against the apartment, I can buy time.”
“And Mariana?”
“My mother knows how to handle her.”
That sentence erased the last trace of doubt.
The next morning, I called Patricia.
“I want to host dinner on Friday.”
She sounded surprised.
“Why?”
“To reset everything.”
Her tone immediately softened.
Exactly as I expected.
“I knew you’d eventually understand how a family works.”
Then I called Rodrigo.
“Invite Daniel. Your sister too. And your business partner.”
“What for?”
“I want to discuss the apartment.”
Silence.
Then he asked:
“So you’ve made a decision?”
I smiled at the recording open on my laptop.
“Yes.”
On Friday evening, I set the table using my grandmother’s dishes.
Rodrigo interpreted it as surrender.
Patricia arrived wearing a dark green suit.
Daniel came ten minutes later.
Rodrigo’s sister and her husband arrived soon after.
Gabriel, the partner responsible for the company’s accounts, joined them.
Rodrigo frowned when Fernanda walked in.
“What is she doing here?”
“She’s a family friend,” I said.
Then my father entered.
Patricia gave him a condescending smile.
“Mr. Salgado.”
My father nodded politely.
“Mrs. Luján.”
Nobody knew that Fernanda’s briefcase contained certified copies of the money transfers, apartment records, and documents submitted using my forged authorization.
We ate for about forty minutes.
Rodrigo performed the role of perfect husband beautifully.
He even held my hand.
Finally, he put down his glass.
“All right. Mariana said she wanted to discuss the apartment.”
Everyone looked at me.
I picked up my phone.
“Yes.”
Rodrigo pushed a folder toward me.
“It’s simple. We only need to adjust a few details.”
Patricia smiled.
“Now you’re thinking like a wife.”
I looked at her.
“That’s exactly why I invited everyone.”
Rodrigo slid a pen toward me.
I didn’t touch it.
Instead, I turned on a small speaker positioned behind us.
At first, music filled the dining room.
The music from our wedding.
Then Patricia’s recorded voice came through.
“She still doesn’t suspect anything?”
Rodrigo went completely still.
The recording continued.
“She still thinks the apartment was my wedding gift.”
Rodrigo’s sister turned toward him.
Daniel stared at the table.
Rodrigo suddenly stood.
“What the hell is this?”
I raised one hand.
“We’re not finished.”
Then came the sentence I had replayed in my head for days.
“Mariana will sign anything if I tell her it’s for our future.”
Patricia went pale.
I stopped the recording.
Nobody spoke.
Rodrigo recovered first.
“You’re twisting everything out of context.”
“I recorded the entire conversation.”
“My mother and I were just talking.”
Fernanda opened her briefcase.
“Then perhaps we can discuss this.”
She placed a copy of the false authorization on the table.
Daniel shifted in his chair.
Fernanda looked directly at him.
“Mr. Murillo, I assume you recognize this document.”
Daniel lost color.
Rodrigo slammed his palm on the table.
“Don’t turn this into a scene.”
I looked at him.
“I married you eleven days ago, and someone has already used a forged version of my signature.”
“I didn’t forge anything.”
Fernanda slid another document forward.
“The file was submitted from your company email.”
Gabriel took the page.
His face changed.
“What were you doing?”
Rodrigo turned on him.
“Stay out of this.”
Gabriel stared back.
“You were going to use Mariana’s apartment to secure company debt?”
Silence.
Gabriel stood.
“How much do we owe?”
Rodrigo said nothing.
Daniel answered instead.
“Eight-point-two million.”
Every person at the table turned toward him.
Rodrigo closed his eyes.
Patricia stood.
“This should never have happened.”
I looked at her.
“You’re right.”
For one second, relief appeared on her face.
Then I finished.
“Because I should have walked away on my wedding night.”
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