Chapter 3 - The Luxury of the Ignorant
Back in the Queens apartment, the atmosphere was entirely different. The sharp smell of medicine and lavender soap had been aggressively masked by a heavy cloud of expensive French perfume Brenda had sprayed across the living room. The classical music Lucia used to play to soothe Mrs. Mercedes’s nerves had been replaced by a pounding bachata beat vibrating through the sound system.
Javier sat on the plush leather sofa, his arm wrapped around Brenda’s bare shoulder. He held a bottle of vintage champagne, pouring it carelessly into two crystal flutes that had been a wedding gift to Lucia from her own grandmother.
"To a new life, baby," Brenda purred, clinking her glass against his. She ran a long, acrylic nail down his jawline. "I still can't believe you finally did it. I was so sick of smelling like a hospital every time I came over here."
"I told you I’d handle it," Javier said, a smug, arrogant grin spreading across his face. He took a deep gulp of the champagne. "Lucia was getting too comfortable anyway. She thought because she was cleaning up after my mom, she had a right to question how I spend the business accounts. Now, she can go live in some small studio in the Bronx and see how hard the real world is without my family's money."
"And what about the old lady?" Brenda asked, biting her lower lip as she looked toward the empty bedroom. "Are you sure she won't be an issue? What if she dies or something? Won't the police come looking for you?"
Javier laughed, a loud, dismissive sound that echoed off the high ceilings. "Are you kidding? Lucia is a saint. She’d jump in front of a train before she let my mom suffer. She’ll find a cheap nursing home, use her own salary to cover the difference, and leave me out of it. Besides, I told her I’d send a few hundred bucks a month for medication. That’ll keep her quiet."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the corporate credit card for Mercedes Auto Logistics—a black titanium card with his name stamped beneath his mother's corporate logo. "Tomorrow, we’re going to Fifth Avenue. I want you to buy that designer coat you were looking at last week. The business had a massive quarter, and the secondary account just cleared thirty thousand dollars from the winter inventory sales."
"Oh, Javi," Brenda squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. "You're the best. I knew you were a real boss the moment I met you at the lounge."
Javier leaned back against the cushions, feeling like the king of New York. For years, he had lived under the shadow of his mother's iron discipline. Mrs. Mercedes had been a woman who inspected every invoice, counted every spark plug, and kept the bank accounts locked behind a wall of security protocols. But the stroke had leveled the playing field. For the past twelve months, Javier had finally tasted the luxury he believed he deserved. He had bought a brand-new Escalade, leased a speedboat in Miami, and spent thousands of dollars impressing young women like Brenda, all while Lucia stayed home, turning his mother over every three hours to prevent her skin from tearing.
He looked at his watch. It was 1:30 AM.
"Let’s go to bed, baby," Javier whispered, pulling Brenda up from the couch. "We have a big day of spending tomorrow."
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As they walked into the master bedroom, Javier didn't notice the small, blinking red light on the internet router in the hallway. The router, which was linked to the estate’s corporate security and financial monitoring network, had just received an external administrative command from a secure server located in downtown Manhattan.
The command was simple: Revoke all localized secondary device tokens. Initiate master asset isolation protocol.
