At my daughter’s first birthday, my mother-in-law raised her glass in front of everyone and questioned whether Lucía truly belonged to my husband—just because my baby had blue eyes.

Teresa Aranda was not a woman who accepted defeat quietly. Two weeks after the birthday party scandal, she managed to secure bail through a high-powered team of lawyers. Instead of hiding in shame, she went on the offensive.

I was staying at my parents’ small apartment. It was cramped, but it was filled with warmth, love, and the smell of my mother’s home-cooked meals. My father had spent the afternoon building a small wooden playpen for Lucía in the living room.

Around 4:00 PM, a heavy knock sounded at the door. When my father opened it, he was pushed aside by two men in dark suits. Behind them walked Teresa, dressed in a sharp beige trench coat, her face masked in cold arrogance.

"Get out of my parents' home," I said, immediately stepping in front of Lucía's playpen.

"This pathetic little box isn't a home, Daniela," Teresa sneered, looking around the modest living room with disgust. "It's a cage. And I will not allow an Aranda heir to be raised in a slum by people who smell like grease and cheap detergent."

My father stepped forward, his face red with anger. "You listen to me, lady—"

"No, Dad, let me," I stopped him, keeping my eyes locked on Teresa. "What are you doing here, Teresa? Shouldn't you be preparing for your embezzlement trial?"

Teresa laughed, a high-pitched, manic sound. "Do you really think a few printed emails will destroy me? The Mier family and the Arandas own the judges in this city. The fraud charges will be dropped by next month. But you? You have made a enemy of the wrong woman. I am filing for emergency temporary custody of Lucía. I’ve already submitted an affidavit claiming that you are mentally unstable, that you are alienating my granddaughter from her family, and that you are living in unsafe, substandard conditions."

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a vicious whisper. "I will take that blue-eyed little girl from you, Daniela. And I will raise her to forget you ever existed. You will leave this city with nothing but the clothes on your back."

"Is that a threat?" I asked, pulling out my phone.

"It’s a promise," Teresa snapped. "Enjoy your final days with her. The court date is set for next Tuesday. My lawyers will dismantle your little life piece by piece."

She turned around and swept out of the apartment, her security guards following close behind.

My mother began to cry, hugging my father. "Daniela, what are we going to do? She has millions. She can buy anyone."