Chapter 5 - The Confrontation at the Office
Two days later, at precisely 2:00 PM, the front door of my accounting firm flew open with a dramatic bang.
Lorena and Rogelio marched into the reception area like an invading army. Lorena’s hair was disheveled, her designer sunglasses perched dramatically on top of her head, and her face twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. Rogelio trailed right behind her, looking like a man who realized he had run out of road.
My receptionist, a sweet twenty-two-year-old named Lupita, stood up immediately, pressing the silent security button under her desk.
“You can’t go back there, Sra. Morelos! You need an appointment!” Lupita protested, stepping out from behind the counter.
“Shut up, girl! I am family! I don’t need an appointment to talk to my own sister!” Lorena snarled, pushing past Lupita and marching straight down the glass-walled corridor toward my private office.
She didn't knock. She kicked my office door open so hard it bounced off the drywall with a thunderous thud.
I didn't even flinch. I was sitting at my desk, calmly reviewing a corporate tax return on my dual monitors, holding a cup of green tea. Two corporate security guards in black suits stood quietly in the corners of the room—a precaution I had arranged the moment I filed the legal motions.
“Mariana! Have you completely lost your mind?!” Lorena shrieked, slamming her palms down onto my mahogany desk. “The bank called us this morning! They said our personal loan has been frozen under a fraud investigation! The kids couldn't even buy lunch at school because every single card we own is flagged! Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for us?!”
I took a slow sip of my green tea, set the ceramic mug down on its saucer with a soft clack, and looked up at her.
“Good afternoon, Lorena. Rogelio,” I said, my voice completely devoid of emotion. “Please, take a seat. Or better yet, stand. You’re making a mess of my office.”
“You psycho!” Rogelio barked, stepping forward, his face red with fury. “You’re ruining our lives over a stupid piece of cake? It was a prank! Kids do stupid things! You’re acting like a vindictive monster!”
I raised my right hand slightly. The two security guards immediately stepped forward, positioning themselves smoothly between my desk and my unwelcome guests. Rogelio stopped dead in his tracks, glaring at the guards.
“A prank?” I asked, my voice deadly quiet. “Is that what you call forging my signature on a three-hundred-thousand-peso personal loan? Is that what you call stealing eighty thousand pesos from our mother’s medical trust fund to buy a handbag?”
Lorena’s face instantly drained of all color. The haughty, furious expression melted away, replaced by a sudden, frantic flash of panic.
“W-What are you talking about?” Lorena stammered, her voice suddenly losing its booming confidence. “I... I didn't forge anything! You signed it willingly!”
“I signed what you presented as an eighty-thousand-peso educational grant document,” I replied, opening a sleek black leather folder and sliding two printed legal documents across the desk. “My attorneys at partner firm LegalCorp have already reviewed the handwriting, the IP logs from the online portal where the loan was processed, and the bank routing numbers. Not only is it clear forgery, but it constitutes federal wire fraud.”
Rogelio stared at the documents, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Lorena... what did you do?” he hissed, turning to glare at his wife.
“Shut up, Rogelio! Don't you dare look at me like that!” Lorena snapped, panicking completely. She turned back to me, her voice dropping into a desperate, pleading whine. “Mariana, please... we’re sisters! We share the same blood! You can’t send us to prison! What will people say? What will mother say? You have millions in this firm, you won't even notice three hundred thousand pesos!”
“That is where you are profoundly mistaken, Lorena,” I said, standing up from my chair. I smoothed down my blazer, towering over her with absolute, unshakeable authority. “I do notice every single peso because I earned every single peso with my own sweat, my own late nights, and my own integrity. You didn't just steal my money; you stole my trust, you humiliated my son, and you thought you could treat me like your personal slave forever.”
I pointed toward the open office door.
“My lawyers have filed the formal criminal complaint. You have forty-eight hours to sign over the title of Rogelio’s car and liquidate whatever assets you have left to begin paying back every cent you embezzled from the family trust and my business accounts. If you don't, the police will be waiting at your house with arrest warrants.”
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Lorena stared at me, the final realization crashing down upon her with the force of a tidal wave. The era of free money, designer bags, and effortless luxury was officially over.
She opened her mouth to scream another insult, but no words came out. Grabbing Rogelio by the arm, she turned around and literally fled down the hallway, half-running out of my office and out of my life forever.
