Chapter 6 - THE RECLAMATION
The next thirty minutes were a symphony of frantic humiliation. Roberto scrambled through the grand hallways of the mansion like a rat caught in a granary, throwing clothes into cheap plastic trash bags while his girlfriend wailed hysterically about her ruined weekend. The two security guards, realizing which way the wind was blowing and that my name was legally on the property deed Héctor had immediately rushed to verify, wisely stepped aside and offered to help carry Roberto's bags to the driveway.
I didn't lift a finger to help them. I stood in the middle of the gleaming kitchen—the very kitchen where parties had raged while my family starved outside—holding a cup of warm water I had boiled for Valeria.
Valeria sat at the marble island, still wearing her torn robe, looking around the massive, luxurious room as if she were trapped in a strange dream. Mateo was finally asleep, resting peacefully in a makeshift bed of plush cushions I had arranged on the sofa.
I walked over, placing the warm cup of water in her trembling hands.
"Drink slowly, amor," I whispered, kneeling beside her chair and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "You're safe now. I'm home. I'm never going back to sea."
Valeria took a small sip, tears welling up in her eyes again, but this time, there was a faint glimmer of relief behind them. "Gabriel... how did you know to come early? What if you had stayed out there another month?"
"I don't know," I said honestly, looking out the window toward the driveway where Roberto’s car was currently being loaded with his pathetic belongings. "Call it a husband's instinct. Or call it God. But my contract ended early, and something in my chest wouldn't let me wait another day."
We heard the heavy roar of Roberto's SUV engine turning over. Through the tinted windows, I watched my brother glare out at the house one last time, his face twisted in a mask of impotent rage and humiliation, before slamming his foot on the gas and speeding down the driveway into the dark Zapopan night.
He was gone. The parasite had been purged from our lives.
Yet, as I looked around the silent, glittering mansion, a heavy weight settled in my stomach. This house... it wasn't a home. It was a monument to deceit. Every corner of it was tainted by the memory of what my family had suffered just yards away from its doors.
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"Gabriel," Valeria murmured softly, reading my thoughts. "What do we do now?"
"We clean," I said, standing up and rolling up my sleeves. "We wash every floor, we throw away every glass they touched, and tomorrow... tomorrow we decide if we even want to keep this place."
