Chapter 2: The Aftermath of the Storm
Chapter 2: The Aftermath of the Storm
Exiting the courthouse was a blur of flashing lights and aggressive reporters. The "Poor Housekeeper Inherits Millions" story was a goldmine for the local press. Javier tried to grab my arm as we reached the steps, his face contorted in a mask of forced charm.
"Sofia, baby, listen. We can talk about this. We’re still a family, right?"
I didn't look at him. I held Mateo close and kept walking. "You told me to take my brat and go to hell, Javier. I’m just taking the advice."
The following weeks were a whirlwind of legal filings, estate management, and learning a new world. Elena’s estate was complex—real estate, vintage investments, and several local businesses. I found myself sitting in boardrooms where men who had looked through me at the grocery store now scrambled to offer me coffee.
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It was exhausting. I had to learn the language of finance, the intricacies of property tax, and the art of saying "no" to people who suddenly claimed they were my "long-lost cousins." But every night, I returned to the guest room of the house on Olvera Street—a house filled with light and memories of the woman who had seen my worth when I couldn't see it myself.
Javier, meanwhile, was spiraling. Without my income to prop him up and stripped of the inheritance he had assumed would eventually be his, he began to make reckless business moves. The divorce settlement was lopsided in my favor, and I made sure every cent of it was tied up in trusts for Mateo’s education, leaving Javier with nothing but his pride—a currency that wouldn't pay his mounting legal bills.
