Chapter 3 - THE BATTLE BEGINS
The next morning, the reality of our new war settled over us.
I spent the early hours on the hospital balcony, making calls. I contacted a top oncologist in the capital city, Dr. Alejandro Vargas, and arranged for Elena to be transferred to a specialized private clinic. Then, I called my company’s legal counsel, a sharp, unyielding corporate attorney named Gabriel Vance, who was also a close personal friend.
"Mateo, are you serious about this?" Gabriel asked over the phone, his pen clicking rapidly. "You want to file formal criminal charges against your own mother for extortion?"
"I have the pawn slips, the wire transfers to her personal account, and written text messages where she threatened to destroy Elena’s reputation if the money wasn't sent," I said, staring out at the city skyline. "I want her prosecuted, Gabriel. And I want the eviction papers served on the courtyard house by noon today."
"Consider it done," Gabriel replied. "I’ll have a process server at her front door within three hours. But Mateo... be careful. Your mother has deep ties with the old local business council. She’s already calling people."
"Let her call whoever she wants," I said, hanging up.
When I returned to Elena's room, she was sitting up in bed, eating a light broth. The color was slowly returning to her cheeks, though she still looked fragile.
"The doctor said I can be discharged tomorrow," Elena said, looking up at me. "Where are we going, Mateo? We can't go back to our apartment. Your mother knows the landlord."
"I bought us a place," I said, pulling a set of keys from my pocket and placing them on her food tray. "A quiet cottage near the coast, forty minutes outside the city. It’s surrounded by trees, fresh air, and absolute peace. No bus rides, no crowded streets, and no Teresa."
Elena looked at the keys, her eyes filling with fresh tears. "How can we afford that? The chemotherapy is going to cost hundreds of thousands of pesos..."
"I sold my share of the commercial real estate portfolio I held with my college partners this morning," I smiled gently, taking her hand. "We have more than enough. From this day on, Elena, your only job is to rest, heal, and let me take care of you."
At two o'clock that afternoon, my phone rang again. The caller ID showed my company’s Board Chairman, Don Fernando—a wealthy businessman who was close friends with my mother’s family.
I answered it calmly. "Good afternoon, Don Fernando."
"Mateo," his booming, authoritative voice echoed through the speaker. "What is this nonsense I’m hearing from your mother? She called me crying, saying you left her penniless, threw her out of her house, and threatened her over some domestic dispute!"
I took a deep breath, keeping my voice entirely professional. "Don Fernando, with all due respect, my mother committed criminal extortion against my wife while she was undergoing cancer treatment. She physically abused her yesterday to the point of heat stroke hospitalization."
A long silence hung over the line.
"Is this true?" Don Fernando asked, his tone shifting from anger to caution.
"I have medical reports, bank statements, and police filings ready to be submitted," I said flatly. "If the board feels my personal life interferes with my performance as Sales Director, I am prepared to tender my resignation immediately. But I will not negotiate on my wife's justice."
Don Fernando sighed deeply. "Hold your resignation, Mateo. You are the best sales director this company has had in a decade. But resolve this quietly. Public scandals do not look good for our upcoming merger."
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"The only scandal will be if my mother attempts to fight the eviction," I said coldly. "Good day, Don Fernando."
I hung up the phone. The lines were drawn. My mother thought she could use her social connections to isolate me, but she had forgotten that I wasn't a scared child anymore. I was a man who had built an empire from nothing—and I was ready to burn it all down to protect the woman I loved.
