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.

Judge Hector Aranda, a stern man with decades of experience on the bench, tapped his heavy wooden pen sharply against the microphone.

"Mr. Salvatierra, I strongly advise you to moderate your comments in my courtroom,"

The judge warned, his tone flat and unamused.

But Julián was entirely incapable of stopping himself. He was fueled by his own narcissism. He had a massive audience, he had all the money, he had his beautiful, young mistress clinging to his arm, and his mother was smiling approvingly right behind him.

"I apologize, Your Honor,"

Julián said, his tone dripping with fake sincerity.

"But it is absolutely crucial that you understand exactly who we are dealing with here. My wife has been psychologically unstable for years. She is incredibly fragile. Prone to intense dramatics. She is completely incapable of handling any serious business or emotional pressure."

Claudia stood up.

The scraping of her wooden chair against the floor silenced the entire room.

The murmuring in the gallery died instantly. The reporters snapped their heads up. A photographer in the back row quickly prepared his heavy camera.

Doña Elvira stopped smiling. Renata slowly, nervously let go of Julián’s arm.