It had been a rehearsal.
Make me feel small. Make me feel indebted. Make me believe that refusing Javier meant losing everything.
Then place a document in front of me and call it a family decision.
I pressed my palm against the table.
"There's something else," I said.
I showed the inspector the pending bank transfer.
She studied the screen without touching it.
"Preserve that information. You should contact your bank immediately about any unauthorized activity. We can record what you've found, and financial investigators can assess whether any offense occurred."
I nodded.
But I barely heard the final words.
Because I remembered something Javier had said that morning.
"Tonight, we're going to settle everything."
At the time, I'd assumed he meant our argument about Mercedes's expenses.
Now I understood.
They'd planned to settle my future without my consent.
When I returned to the dining room, Javier was pacing beside the table.
