“Sign the divorce papers. Now. I’m sick of seeing your bloated, milk-stained body. I need a young woman who fits into my world, not a pathetic housewife.”
The leaves fell onto my bed like trash. My abdomen was still open from the emergency C-section. There was dried blood on the sheet, and the pain shot through me every time I tried to sit up. My son slept in a transparent crib next to me, so small he looked like he was made of glass.
My husband, Álvaro Serrano , didn’t even look at the baby. His impeccable suit contrasted sharply with my hospital gown. Beside him stood Claudia Rivas , his secretary, with a folder and a smug smile. She made no attempt to hide it. She had come to see me humiliated.
“Come on, Lucía,” Álvaro said. “Don’t make a fuss. Everything’s settled. You keep the child, I’ll give you a decent allowance, and we can each go our separate ways.”
I tried to speak, but my throat closed up. It wasn’t just the physical pain. It was complete betrayal. Four years building a company from scratch, sleepless nights, investor meetings, campaigns, closings, contracts… and he, who at first was nothing more than a “support” person, now thought he owned everything.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Claudia asked with feigned compassion. “It’s for the best for both of us.”
I took a deep breath. I felt the wound pull, but I didn’t cry. I wasn’t going to give them that.
“Is this what you came here to do while I’m still bleeding?” I managed to say, my voice cracking.
Álvaro let out a short laugh.
—Don’t exaggerate. You’re out of danger now. Besides, you’re not exactly presentable anymore.
My hand trembled as I picked up the papers. Not because I was afraid, but because for the first time I understood something with brutal clarity: he was using a power that was never his .
He didn’t build the company, Serrano&Co . I built it. And everything Álvaro had—his contacts, his reputation, his suits, his “world”—he had bought with the prestige I built.
Claudia leaned over to put a pen in my hand.
—Sign here, Lucia.
I looked at the blank line… and smiled slowly
Of course,” I said. “I’ll sign. But first, Álvaro… tell me something. Are you sure that everything you’re bragging about is really yours?”
His expression hardened.
—What are you implying?
I looked up, without taking my eyes off his.
—That today you’re going to lose more than a wife.
And at that moment, his phone vibrated. He looked at the screen and went pale.
That’s where the real chaos began.
Álvaro tried to hide it, but she knew him too well. His jaw tightened, and his eyes—always confident—moved as if searching for an escape route. Claudia noticed it too. She took a step closer and whispered:
-What’s happening?
He didn’t answer. He just looked back at his phone, as if he expected whatever he was reading to disappear. I, from my bed, breathed a sigh of relief. Not because I was physically well, but because I had made a decision : to stop being the ground that held him up.
“Is everything alright?” I asked gently, which irritated him.
Álvaro swallowed hard.
—That’s none of your business. Sign.
But it was no longer their time. It was mine.
“Yes, it’s my business,” I said. “Because what you’re reading right now… is the first sign that your reign is over.”
He clutched the divorce papers as if he could forcefully shatter my reality.
—Lucía, don’t do anything silly. You’re in a hospital. You don’t have the strength to play games.
“I don’t need strength,” I replied. “I just needed to open my eyes.”
Claudia frowned, trying to regain control.
—Lucía, stop speaking in riddles. Álvaro is the CEO. He makes the decisions.
I let out a short laugh. It hurt, but it was worth it.
“General manager?” I repeated. “Did he tell you how he got there?”
Álvaro raised his voice:
-It just is!
The baby stirred, and my chest filled with a fierce instinct. I spent months protecting a company and a marriage, while he grew accustomed to being in charge.
“When I founded Serrano&Co,” I said, “I did it with my savings and my contacts. You only lent your last name because I believed a male face would inspire more confidence in the market.”
Claudia opened her mouth in surprise. Álvaro, however, merely offered a fake smile.
—That’s in the past. Now the company is ours. Legally.
—Legally… for now —I replied.
I slowly pulled my phone from the nightstand. It was painful, but my mind was clear. I opened my email and turned the screen toward it.
“Six months ago,” I continued, “while you were playing at being important, I protected the company. I changed the shareholding structure. I updated the powers of attorney. And I made it clear that your position depended on my signature… which I never gave you permanently.”
Álvaro took a step towards me, furious.
—You can’t do that!
“I already did it,” I said, and my voice came out firm.
Claudia paled.
—Álvaro… is it true that she…?
He looked at her with pure hatred. Because the truth was exposing him.
—You don’t understand anything, Claudia.
I picked up my phone again.
—The call you just received… was from the council. Right?
Álvaro did not answer.
—They summoned you. And they asked you to explain the suspicious transfers. Because I sent a report. With evidence. And by the way… I included your email with Claudia.
Claudia stepped back, as if she had been hit.
-No…
“Yes,” I said. “I’m not a victim. I’m the one who built all of this. And what you’ve been using… was mine.”
Álvaro gritted his teeth and uttered a venomous phrase:
—Do you think you’re going to win? You’re alone. Nobody’s going to believe you.
I looked at him with a dangerous calm.
“I’m not alone,” I replied. “I have a son. And I have the truth.”
And then, at the door , appeared a woman in a dark suit with a folder.
“Good morning,” she said. “I’m Lucía Morales’s lawyer . And we’ve come to talk about the company… and the divorce.”
The silence shattered like glass. Álvaro took a step back, not out of respect, but out of fear. My lawyer, Marina Ortega , entered without asking permission, as if the hospital were a boardroom. Her presence changed the atmosphere.
“Álvaro Serrano,” Marina said, “I am informing you that from this moment on you are not authorized to make decisions at Serrano&Co. Your access to corporate accounts has been suspended and the board has requested a full audit.”
Claudia froze. Her hands trembled over the folder she was carrying, now useless.
“This is madness,” Álvaro blurted out. “I’m the CEO!”
Marina barely smiled.
—She was. Her appointment was temporary and depended on Lucía Morales’ signature. Furthermore, the majority of the shares are in my client’s name.
Álvaro turned his head towards me, with a mixture of anger and bewilderment.
—Did you set a trap for me?
I looked at him slowly. There was pain in my legs, but there was peace in my mind
“It wasn’t a trap. It was prevention. Because you were always capable of this. It’s just that I was slow to accept it.”
Claudia tried to speak:
—Lucía, I…
“Don’t talk to me like you’re innocent,” I said without raising my voice. “You chose to be here today. You chose to look at my blood and think that gave you power.”
Claudia lowered her gaze. And for the first time, she stopped looking confident.
Marina placed a document on the table.
“Here is Lucia’s formal divorce petition,” he said. “And here is a temporary restraining order while the process is being resolved.”
Álvaro laughed, but it was a hollow laugh.
—A restraining order? What are you accusing me of?
Marina didn’t blink.
—Psychological violence, systematic humiliation, and intimidating behavior. Furthermore, attempts to force a signature while in a vulnerable state. There are witnesses, Mr. Serrano. Medical staff. Nurses. Even your secretary.
Claudia shuddered. She understood that her presence was no longer a “triumph,” but a test.
Álvaro tried to approach, but Marina raised a hand.
—Not one more step.
He clenched his fists, and in his eyes I saw something that would have paralyzed me before. But not now. Because I finally understood that his strength came from my permission . And I had withdrawn it.
“You’re going to regret this,” he murmured.
“No,” I replied. “I regret taking so long.”
Álvaro picked up his phone, looked at Claudia with disdain—as if she were responsible for his fall—and left without another word. Claudia followed him a few seconds later, devastated, not daring to look at me.
When the door closed, the room was quiet. My son was breathing softly. I approached with effort and took him in my arms. His warmth restored my sense of the world.
Marina leaned towards me.
—You did it perfectly. Now rest. We’ll take care of the rest.
I nodded. I looked at my baby and knew it wasn’t the end: it was the beginning. Not of revenge, but of a life where no one would ever again call me “pathetic” for giving birth, for loving, for building something.
