“It’s my inheritance,” he replied without blinking. “The same one you wanted to use a thousand times for your ‘great business ideas.’ The difference is that my investments work. Yours… were hotels, but only just.”
Mariana spoke for the first time.
“Mr. Briones, you will be formally served with the divorce petition tomorrow morning,” she said in a neutral tone. Given the overwhelming evidence of adultery and the record of shared resources used for your trysts, I suggest you hire a good lawyer.
“Evidence?” he repeated.
Jimena opened a drawer and placed a thick folder on the desk.
“Hotel receipts, bank statements, messages, emails, photos,” she listed. “Six months’ work by a private investigator whom, by the way, I paid out of my own pocket.”
Tomás felt exposed.
“You hired an investigator…”
“And I consulted with three different family law firms,” she continued. “I reviewed twelve years of finances, calculated exactly what I’m entitled to and what I’m not. And I came to a very simple conclusion.”
“Which is?”
“That I don’t need you. That I never needed you.”
The sentence hit like a slap in the face.