He canceled his wife’s invitation because she looked like a “servant” so he could show off his mistress… he never imagined that she was the owner of his entire empire
PART 1
Rodrigo Alcántara removed his wife from the guest list exactly 45 minutes before Mexico City’s most exclusive business gala. He was completely convinced that such a “simple” and unambitious woman would end up ruining the pinnacle of his career, a moment he had been pursuing for seven years.
On the 40th floor of his corporate headquarters on Paseo de la Reforma, the atmosphere exuded arrogance. Through the immense tempered glass windows, the city glittered with the lights of nighttime traffic, an asphalt monster that Rodrigo felt he had beneath the soles of his designer shoes. Recently named to a prestigious list as “The Young Titan of Mexican Technology,” he adjusted his silk tie as Beto, his personal assistant, showed him the final guest list on a tablet for that evening’s dinner at the Ex-Convent of San Hipólito. It would be a private event, packed with Monterrey magnates, high-profile politicians, and television executives.
“Pass it again,” Rodrigo ordered, pouring himself a shot of mezcal from a limited edition bottle.
Beto swiped through the screen. Rodrigo scanned the illustrious surnames with a predatory grin. Everything was perfectly orchestrated. That night, he would not only receive the Businessman of the Year award, but he would also publicly sign the merger with the Garza-Sada Group, a move that would quadruple his fortune and place him among the untouchables.
Suddenly, his gaze fell upon a line.
Carmen Ortiz de Alcántara.
A knot of annoyance tightened his jaw. The image of Carmen flashed before his eyes, just as he had left her that very morning at his house in Coyoacán: wearing a loose cotton dress, her hair casually braided, her hands stained with dirt and spices because she insisted on making mole from scratch and tending to her own Talavera pottery plants. She was the same patient woman who demanded nothing of him, who preferred reading in the patio to socializing in Polanco restaurants. The same woman who, ironically, had sold some supposed “family plots” in the north to pull him out of bankruptcy six years ago, when he was the laughingstock of the industry.
But for Rodrigo, gratitude had an expiration date.
“Delete her,” he decreed in an icy voice.
Beto looked up, bewildered.
“Excuse me, engineer?”
“Carmen. Take her off the main list. Cancel her access code.”
The assistant swallowed, feeling a cold sweat break out on his face.
“Engineer, she’s the lady of the house. The society pages are waiting for the wedding photo.”
“I’m not waiting for it,” Rodrigo interrupted, slamming his fist on the desk. “Tonight is a night of power. Of status. I’m not going to walk the red carpet with a woman who looks like she came from a craft market, who can’t tell the difference between a 30,000-peso wine and who stays silent when real men talk about macroeconomics. Delete her and send my armored SUV for Paola. She’s the one who’s going to walk in on my arm.”
Paola was a 24-year-old influencer with millions of followers, flawless plastic surgery, and an innate ability to feign interest in millionaires. Beside her, Rodrigo felt like a king.
Beto, his fingers trembling, pressed the screen, and Carmen’s name was deleted from the central system.
“Done, engineer.”
Rodrigo smiled, feeling invincible. What his arrogance prevented him from realizing was that this database was directly connected to a master server in Monterrey, belonging to the holding company that controlled 82 percent of his own company’s shares.
Twenty kilometers away, in the stillness of her garden, Carmen’s phone vibrated. She was pruning some rose bushes. She read the notification on the bright screen.
ACCESS DENIED. GUEST REMOVED BY DIRECT ORDER OF RODRIGO ALCÁNTARA.
Carmen didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. Slowly, she brushed the dirt from her hands. She opened a hidden app on her phone, entered three different passwords, and dialed an encrypted number.
“Attorney Montenegro,” she said, her voice devoid of any trace of sweetness. “I received the notification.”
“I saw it, Madam Director. Do you want me to cancel tonight’s merger and leave you out on the street right now?”
“No,” Carmen replied, staring at the front of the house. “He wants a stage set full of lights. We’re going to give it to him. Prepare the helicopter and take the audit documents out of the trunk.” No one in that room could imagine what was about to happen…
