Chapter 4 - The Sabotage
When I arrived home at 6:30 p.m. that evening, I brought along two uniformed private security officers I had hired through a reputable agency for the evening. I wasn't going to risk my physical safety inside my own home.
When I unlocked the front door, the sight that greeted me was sickening.
The living room had been intentionally vandalized.
My expensive velvet sofa was stained with dark red wine. My mother’s antique porcelain vase—the only physical memory I had left of her—lay shattered in dozens of sharp fragments across the hardwood floor. The potted monstera plants on the balcony had been uprooted, dirt smeared across the glass sliding doors.
Teresa was sitting at the dining table, sipping tea with an expression of smug satisfaction. Iván was lounging on the armchair, scrolling on his phone, while Daniel stood near the kitchen, looking exhausted and visibly agitated.
The two security guards stepped into the foyer behind me, their presence instantly changing the energy in the room.
“What is this?” Daniel demanded, jumping up from the kitchen counter. “You brought hired thugs into our home?!”
“I brought security to document the property damage,” I said, pulling out my smartphone and taking high-resolution photos and video of the shattered vase, the stained sofa, and the dirt on the floor. “Shattering a deceased person’s heirloom and damaging real estate isn't just petty, Teresa. It’s criminal property destruction.”
Teresa didn't even flinch. She set her cup down with a delicate clink. “It was an accident. Iván tripped over the rug. Things break when people are stressed by evil daughters-in-law.”
“You did this on purpose!” I shouted, the restraint I had maintained all day finally snapping. “That vase belonged to my mother!”
“Your mother raised a cold, unnatural woman,” Teresa sneered, standing up and crossing her arms. “And as long as I am in this house for the next five days, you’re going to learn that you can’t buy respect with legal papers.”
Daniel stepped between us, looking panicked. “Mariana, please... don't do this. I told Mom we should clean it up—”
“You let them smash my mother's vase, Daniel?” I asked, staring at him in utter horror. “You stood here and watched them destroy the only thing I had left of her?”
Daniel looked away, his silence giving me the agonizing answer I already knew.
“Officers,” I said, turning to the two security guards standing behind me. “Please stand guard in the hallway outside my bedroom door for the night. I am filing an emergency police report for domestic property damage right now.”
Iván laughed aloud from the armchair. “Go ahead! Call the police! It’s a domestic dispute between married people! The cops in Mexico City don't care about a broken vase!”
“They care when the property is worth over fifty thousand pesos and accompanied by a formal eviction injunction,” I replied coldly.
I walked into my bedroom, locked the door, and spent the next two hours on the phone with Sofía and the local precinct. We added criminal property damage and malicious destruction of private assets to the legal petition.
At midnight, as I lay awake in the dark room listening to the heavy footsteps of my hired guards pacing the hallway outside, a strange quiet settled over my mind.
May you like
The grief over my mother's vase was real, but it had washed away the last lingering thread of hesitation I had about destroying Daniel and his family legally and financially.
They wanted a war inside my home. I was going to give them a masterclass in total annihilation.
