That outburst drew even more attention. Several people started recording with their cell phones. Edward noticed and paled.
Then I revealed the second part of the plan.
“This memory isn’t alone. There are three more copies. One is with my lawyer. Another is on the desk of a journalist at Diario Vasco. And the third…” I paused, staring intently at Richard, “…must already be arriving at the Tax Agency.”
The man, who thought himself untouchable, took a step back as if I had physically assaulted him.
“You can’t do that…” he whispered. “You’d ruin my life. You’d ruin everything.”
“No,” I replied sharply. “You ruined my daughter’s long before that.”
Lucía burst into tears, not from fear, but from relief. For the first time, Edward didn’t look at her with superiority; he looked at her as if he had never seen her before.
And then came the final blow.
“Richard Davenport,” I said loudly, so everyone could hear, “you should prepare yourself. Tonight, you’re no longer in charge.”
The tension in the restaurant was so thick it felt like the air had stopped. Richard tried to compose himself, but his trembling hands betrayed him. Helen wept silently, while Edward slumped in his chair, disoriented.
“We have to go,” he finally said. “Right now.”
“No,” I interjected. “Lucía first.”
Everyone froze.My daughter, still trembling, looked at me with red eyes. I smiled at her with the confidence I’d been holding onto for years.
“Tell them,” I urged her. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”
Edward frowned.
“Tell what?”
Lucía took a deep breath. And then she spoke in a voice I hadn’t heard from her in a very long time: firm, clear, full of dignity.
“I’m not coming home with you. Not today, not ever again.”
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