My phone rang instantly.
Diego.
I answered calmly.
“Mariana, what the hell is going on?!”
“Oh,” I said lightly, “just managing my property.”
“Turn everything back on. Now.”
“No.”
Silence.
Then anger.
“Stop this stupid game.”
“It’s not a game,” I replied. “You have one hour to get everyone out.”
“Or what?”
I leaned back against the wall.
“Or the police will remove trespassers. And tomorrow morning, I file for divorce.”
That hit him.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I already did,” I said. “Check your email.”
Because while they were drinking, laughing, and sleeping in my bed…
I had already sent the paperwork.
Divorce filing.
Property confirmation.
Legal notice.
Inside, voices started rising.
Doña Teresa’s sharp tone cut through:
“She’s bluffing!”
I opened the shed door and stepped outside.
Cool night air hit my face.
For the first time since arriving…
I felt calm.
I walked back into the house.
Phones lit up anxious faces. People whispering. Arguing.
Then they saw me.
Quiet. Controlled.
Done.
“Time’s up,” I said.w
Diego stepped forward.
“You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“No,” I said. “I’m fixing a mistake.”
I looked around the room.
“At midnight, anyone still here is trespassing.”
