Jorge greeted me with a warm smile, but when I showed him the documents, his expression changed completely. "Ms. Antonia, this is much more than I imagined. Roberto was a very intelligent man. Look, according to these papers, you own..." "I know, Jorge, I already checked them. What I need to know is what I can legally do."
Jorge explained that everything was in order, that the documents were legitimate, that I was the rightful owner of all those properties. He also confirmed something I already suspected. The sale of the beach house had been illegal because Angela had no right to sell it We can get the house back immediately, Mrs. Antonia, and we can also take legal action against your daughter for fraud. No, Jorge, I don't want to take legal action.
I want to do this another way. I want everything to remain secret for now. Can you help me? Jorge looked at me curiously, but nodded. Of course, you're my client. What do you need? I need you to discreetly recover the beach house, take the necessary steps to annul that fraudulent sale, and help me gain real control of all my properties, especially the building where my daughter lives.
I understand, it's going to be a process that will take a few weeks, but it's entirely feasible. Perfect. And Jorge, I need no one to know I'm behind all this, at least for now. When I left Jorge's office, I felt as if I had woken up from a very long dream.I walked through the downtown streets, observing the people, the buildings, life continuing its normal course, but for me, everything had changed. I had a plan. The next few weeks were the strangest of my life. Officially, I was a poor widow who had been abandoned by her daughter, but secretly, I was a wealthy woman quietly orchestrating the recovery of her estate.
Jorge worked efficiently and called me every few days to give me updates on the progress of the legal proceedings. I decided to stay in my house in the meantime. It was mine, after all. Although Angela probably hoped I'd move into a boarding house. Every morning, I woke up, had breakfast at the same table where Roberto and I had shared so many years, and then went for a walk around the neighborhood
The neighbors greeted me with that mixture of pity and curiosity they reserve for recent widows. Aurora, my lifelong neighbor, approached me one afternoon while I was watering the plants in front. "Antonia, dear, is it true that Ángela went to Europe and left you all alone?" "Yes, Aurora went with Eduardo. They have business plans there."
"And how are you going to live, my dear? We all know Roberto didn't leave much money." "If I knew," I thought, "don't worry, Aurora. I'll be fine. Do you need anything? I can bring you food, help you with the shopping." "You're very kind, but I'm fine, really." Aurora looked at me with that expression I knew so well.
It was the same look I'd received after the funeral, passionate and tinged with relief that it wasn't their tragedy. Well, you know where to find me if you need anything. These conversations were a constant. The butcher, the baker, the lady at the corner store—they all spoke to me in that soothing tone they use with the down-on-their-luck.
And I nodded, smiled, thanked them for their concern, but inside, a part of me enjoyed this performance. It was like living a double life. Jorge called me one Wednesday morning. "Mrs. Antonia, I have good news. I managed to cancel the sale of the beach house. The buyers didn't know the sale was fraudulent, so they got their money back without any problems.
The house is yours again." "Excellent, Jorge." "And the building where Angela lives? That's more complicated. Technically, you've always been the owner through the company, but we need to make some administrative changes so you have direct control. It should take another two weeks." "Perfect, keep me posted."
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