Businessmen, politicians, media representatives, and relatives who once smiled respectfully at me now merely whispered.
Franco stood on the stage. Impeccably dressed, his posture erect, microphone in hand, like a king before his kingdom.
Next to him was Jessica, holding the baby in her arms, smiling as if she owned the world.
Franco thanked everyone for coming and declared that this was the happiest day of his life.
Finally, he said, the Montemayor family had an heir. The son he had prayed for for years.
Then, with a venomous smile, he added that this was the son his first wife had never been able to give him.
Some laughed. Others glanced toward the door.
“By the way… she hasn’t arrived yet? What a shame.”
At that moment, the great doors opened.
The music stopped. The air grew heavy.
All eyes fell on me.
I entered slowly. I was wearing a simple, elegant black velvet dress.
My face was impassive. My eyes burned.
I wasn’t alone.
An elderly woman walked beside me, leaning on a gold walking stick. Her steps were slow, but her presence commanded respect.
She wore a white, diamond-studded suit.
When Franco saw her, the microphone slipped from his hand.
He paled.
“Mother?”
Jessica took a step back, almost dropping the baby.
The woman beside me was Doña Soledad Montemayor, the true owner of the Montemayor empire and Franco’s mother.
Two years earlier, Franco had claimed he was suffering from Alzheimer’s and severe dementia.
He had her transferred to a private clinic abroad and forbade anyone from visiting her.
He said she was no longer sane and a danger.
That’s how he took legal control and the entire company.
But I knew the truth.
Doña Soledad wasn’t crazy.
Franco had gradually sedated her with drugs to make her appear confused.
When he removed me from his life, I had nothing left to lose. I found the clinic. I spent my last savings. I got her out.
I took her to real doctors.
And slowly, little by little, her mind returned.
Now we were standing in the center of the room.
Franco called security. He shouted that his mother was sick and could harm the child.
The security guards approached, but Doña Soledad raised her walking stick.
“One more step and you are free.”
They stopped. They knew who really held the power.
I helped her onto the stage.
Doña Soledad looked at her son.
