Chapter 5 - The Empty Mansion and the First Taste of Panic
Inside the grand estate on Beverly Drive, chaos erupted within minutes of my departure.
Theresa stormed into the study, violently sweeping the crystal decanters off the side table. Whiskey and shattered glass splattered across the antique Persian rug.
“Get Arthur Vance on the phone right now!” Theresa shrieked at Alex. “Arthur has been our lead corporate attorney for twenty-five years! He will find a loophole in that senile old man's trust!”
Alex was sitting on the edge of the leather sofa, staring blankly at the copies of the DNA reports and Don Mateo’s codicil. “Mother... you don’t understand. Don Mateo didn’t use Arthur Vance to draft this. Look at the bottom of the page.”
Theresa snatched the parchment, squinting through her designer reading glasses.
At the bottom of the final page was the gold-embossed seal of Sterling, Cross & Blackwell—the most feared corporate litigation firm in the entire state of Texas.
“Gabriel Sterling...” Theresa muttered, the color draining from her lips again. “The man who bankrupted the Carrington Group two years ago?”
“Gabriel Sterling was Don Mateo’s closest godson,” Alex said, his voice trembling. “He hates us. He’s hated us ever since we tried to put Don Mateo in a state facility six years ago. If Gabriel has this trust, we are completely locked out.”
Upstairs, the heavy footsteps of children running echoed down the hall.
Santiago appeared at the top of the stairs, holding his empty water bottle. “Grandma? Where is Mommy? Who is going to make our dinner? Marisol doesn’t know how to make the chicken soup Mommy makes.”
Matthew and Eli stood behind their older brother, both of them crying.
“Shut up and go back to your rooms!” Theresa screamed at the children, completely losing her composure.
Santiago flinched, stepping backward. In all his nine years, Valerie had never once raised her voice at him like that.
Marisol hurried up the stairs, trying to gather the boys in her arms. “Come, my darlings, come with me... I will make you something...”
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“Get away from me!” Santiago shouted, pushing Marisol’s hands away. “You’re just the nurse! Where is our real mom?!”
Marisol froze on the stairs, tears streaming down her cheeks as the boys ran back into their rooms and slammed the doors. The lie that had sustained the Salgado household for a decade was crumbling from the inside out, and the walls of the great mansion felt colder and more hollow than a crypt.
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