During the trial, her husband mocked her, saying, "You have nothing left," but when she took off her coat, she revealed her scars and disclosed who the real owner of this medical empire was.

Sitting beside Claudia was Esteban Lira.

He was a discreet, unassuming man with a neatly trimmed silver beard and thin wire-rimmed glasses. He did not look like a high-powered corporate shark. He looked like an exhausted academic.

Esteban leaned in close to Claudia, his eyes fixed on the stack of files sitting between them.

"Are you absolutely certain about this?"

Esteban asked, his voice a low, almost imperceptible whisper, completely hidden from the defense table.

Claudia took a slow, deep, terrifyingly steady breath.

"Now,"

Claudia replied simply.

Julián’s sharp ears caught the single whispered word. He frowned deeply, a brief flash of confusion crossing his handsome face.

He was intimately familiar with Claudia’s silence. Over the past decade, he had systematically trained her to be quiet. But he did not expect her to be this incredibly calm on the day she was losing her entire life.

For ten years, Julián had fatally mistaken her profound patience for inherent weakness. He truly believed that a woman who did not scream, throw objects, or cry hysterically was simply a woman who had accepted defeat.

"Say something!"