Chapter 6 - The Cold Ultimatum
Javier stood in the center of the hallway, flanked by the four women who had spent his entire life teaching him that being a man meant demanding absolute obedience and humiliating anyone perceived as weaker. He expected Natalia to cry, to beg for forgiveness on her mother's behalf, or to start a screaming match that he could easily win by playing the victim.
Instead, Natalia smiled.
It was not a sweet, forgiving smile. It was a terrifying, razor-sharp expression of absolute finality. It was the smile of an architect who had just found the structural weak point in a building and was about to detonate the charges.
“Javier,” Natalia said, her voice eerily calm and meticulously measured. “You have three single, unemployed sisters living under this roof. From this exact second forward, you are solely responsible for providing for them. You will comfort them, you will pay their exorbitant credit card bills, and you will endure their endless tantrums with your own money.”
Javier’s face lost all its arrogant color, turning a sickly shade of pale gray. He realized, perhaps for the first time, who actually controlled the purse strings.
“Natalia, stop acting crazy. Don't exaggerate this,” he stammered, taking a step forward.
“Do not ever speak my name again as if you still have the right to do so,” she commanded, her voice slicing through the room like a scalpel.
Doña Graciela, sensing the shift in power, stepped aggressively in front of her son. She raised her chin, dripping with unearned superiority.
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“If you walk out that door right now, do not ever think about coming back,” Graciela threatened. “My son is a catch. There are a thousand women out there just like you who would beg to be in his position.”
Natalia didn't even dignify the pathetic threat with a response. She simply grabbed her mother’s trembling hand and walked purposefully up the stairs.
