Chapter 9 - THE HOUSE WITH MY NAME ON IT
Friday was two days away.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Nina began making calls.
I stood beside the table while the room turned into a machine.
Property records.
Broker details.
The supposed power of attorney.
A purchaser who claimed to have paid a deposit.
The title review we had already requested became urgent.
By late afternoon, Nina had contacted the broker’s counsel and put the alleged buyer on notice that the authority to sell was disputed.
“I never signed a power of attorney,” I said.
“I know.”
“What if they already have the keys?”
“Then we change the locks.”
I looked toward the hallway.
Marco had asked me to leave with one bag.
He had probably expected to have the house empty before Friday.
Stella hadn’t been admiring my furniture.
She had been checking what was included.
The broker arrived the next morning with his attorney.
He looked more frightened than offended.
“Your husband represented that you were relocating.”
“My husband represented a lot of things.”
He showed us the documents.
There was my signature.
Lifted from another page.
There was a copy of my identification.
There was a photograph of me standing beside Marco.
Proof of a happy marriage.
Proof of nothing.
“I spoke to a woman on the phone,” the broker said.
“What woman?”
“She identified herself as you.”
“Did you record the call?”
His attorney answered.
“Our office retains transaction calls.”
The recording was provided through counsel.
A woman’s voice filled the room.
Bright.
Impatient.
“I’m overseas at the moment. Marco has full authority.”
Stella.
I knew it instantly.
Then, in the background, a man said:
“Keep it short.”
It wasn’t Marco.
I looked at Suarez.
He had heard it too.
Victor Hale.
The finance director who was supposedly still in Dubai.
Suarez asked for the date.
The broker gave it.
Four days earlier.
The call had been placed from a local number.
Victor hadn’t been watching the collapse from another country.
He had been here.
That evening, while Nina and I waited for an update, my doorbell camera sent an alert.
A man stood outside the gate.
Gray suit.
No tie.
He looked directly into the lens.
May you like
Then my phone rang.
“Elena,” Victor said. “We should talk before your husband makes things worse.”
