Chapter 4 - The Bait
Forty-eight hours later, my mother was quietly transferred to a secure private facility under police protection, with a fake medical update released to the family claiming she had slipped into an irreversible coma.
That evening, I came home appearing broken, disheveled, and defeated. I collapsed onto the couch, leaving my briefcase wide open on the coffee table. Inside was a high-resolution, forged duplicate of the 1978 Coyoacán deed, complete with a legal clause indicating that full ownership defaulted to my mother's sole living heir upon her death—unless signed over beforehand.
Karina brought me a glass of water, pouring on the devotion. "Oh, Mateo... I’m so sorry. What did the doctors say?"
"She’s not going to make it, Karina," I sobbed convincingly, burying my face in my hands. "It’s over. And I found this... in her old safety deposit box today. I don't even know what it means."
I gestured toward the document in the briefcase.
Her eyes lit up with an insatiable hunger. She picked up the paper, her fingers trembling as she scanned the legal description of the Coyoacán parcel. Seventy million pesos worth of prime commercial real estate—the missing jewel of the Mendoza empire.
"This... this is a property title, Mateo," she whispered, her voice trembling with excitement she could barely contain. "Your mother kept this hidden?"
"I can't deal with this right now," I said, standing up weakly. "My head is pounding. I’m going to take something and try to sleep."
"Yes, my love," she said, already snapping a photo of the document with her phone under the pretense of holding it. "Go rest. I’ll take care of everything."
As soon as I closed the bedroom door, I pulled out a secure tablet connected to a hidden camera in the living room. I watched Karina immediately dial her father.
"Papa, I have it," she whispered into the phone, her face flushed with triumph. "The original deed. It’s right here. But we need Mateo's signature on a transfer authorization before the hospital officially pronounces her dead, or it goes into probate."
"Bring the document to the old Coyoacán warehouse tonight at midnight," Jorge Mendoza instructed over the speaker. "Bring Mateo’s digital signature token from his office desk. I’ll have our notary finalize the fraudulent transfer retroactively. By tomorrow morning, the Mendoza family will finally own what was taken from us."
"And Mateo?" Karina asked, her voice devoid of any hesitation.
May you like
"Once the transfer is logged," Jorge replied callously, "make sure he takes a lethal dose of his mother's remaining heart medication. A tragic suicide brought on by grief over his mother's death. The narrative writes itself."
I sat in the dark room, watching my wife of two years casually consent to my execution. The final veil had fallen.
