Chapter 15 - Exposed to the Core|
I reached up with both hands, untied the knot of my black head wrap, and pulled the cloth away.
My bare, shaved scalp glistened under the chandelier light.
The scars from the razor nicks were still faintly visible above my left ear.
“For three years,” I declared, my voice resonating through the silent room like a thunderclap, “I paid the mortgage for this house. I paid for the food, the electricity, the medical bills, and the luxury lifestyles of these two people.”
I pointed directly at Adrian and Beatrice.
“When I earned a promotion through my hard work, they shaved my head while I slept to humiliate me into resigning,” I continued, staring down the shocked guests. “When I cut off my money, they tried to break into my safe. And when that failed, they brought in a fake pregnant mistress to force me out of my own home.”
From the back of the room, a tall man in a dark suit stood up.
It was my lawyer, Julian Mercado.
“Good evening, everyone,” Julian announced calmly, pulling a stack of legal notices from his briefcase. “I am Julian Mercado, counsel for Ms. Mara Velasquez.”
He stepped forward, handing a court summons directly to Adrian, then another to Beatrice, and a third to Selene.
“Formal divorce proceedings have been officially filed,” Julian announced loudly so every guest could hear. “Criminal complaints for assault, attempted grand larceny, conspiracy to commit fraud, and unlawful entry have been lodged with the police department.”
Two uniformed police officers stepped through the front entrance, accompanied by my investigator, Rafi Ong.
“The property title of this residence belongs solely to Ms. Velasquez,” Julian added firmly. “Eviction notices are effective immediately. Mr. Velasquez and Mrs. Dela Cruz have thirty minutes to pack their personal clothes and vacate the premises.”
Beatrice burst into hysterical wails, throwing herself at my feet.
“Mara! My daughter! Please!” she sobbed, clutching the hem of my dress. “I was only trying to protect my son! A mother makes mistakes!”
May you like
I stepped back, pulling my dress from her grip.
“I am not your daughter,” I said softly. “And your son wasn't drowning. He was draining everyone else’s life and calling it survival.”
