Chapter 5 - THE COMPANY
Mendoza Axis held an emergency board meeting forty-eight hours after the funeral.
I attended by video from the house because my doctor had ordered rest.
Doña Teresa arrived in person wearing black pearls and a face sharpened for battle.
Fernanda sat beside her.
Rodrigo sat two chairs away, sweating through his collar.
Arturo stood at the head of the boardroom.
On screen, I could see the directors avoiding eye contact with Doña Teresa.
That told me Julián’s documents had already reached them.
Arturo opened the meeting.
“Under the succession instruments executed by Mr. Julián Mendoza, voting control of his protected shares passes to the Mendoza Child Trust, with Lucía Salazar Mendoza serving as interim trustee until the child reaches legal maturity provisions defined in the instrument.”
Doña Teresa stood.
“This is absurd. That child has not even been born.”
Arturo replied, “Mexican law and the trust language anticipated that.”
A director named Samuel Ortega cleared his throat.
“We also have to address the audit.”
Doña Teresa froze.
Arturo nodded to him.
“The audit will proceed.”
Fernanda whispered something to Rodrigo.
Rodrigo shook his head quickly.
Arturo shared documents on the boardroom screen.
Unauthorized transfer requests.
Vendor payments to shell consulting firms.
Duplicate licensing invoices.
Security contracts routed through companies connected to Rodrigo.
Attempted removal of Julián as sole administrator of certain intellectual property assets.
Then came an email from Fernanda.
If Julián does not change Lucía’s position voluntarily, Mamá says we wait. Grief makes documents easier.
A director gasped.
Doña Teresa shouted, “That is taken out of context.”
Arturo clicked again.
More context appeared.
Rodrigo to Fernanda:
Car service handled. He takes the Valle route Thursday. After that, Arturo becomes the problem.
The room changed.
Even through the video screen, I felt it.
Air turning to stone.
Car service handled.
Valle route.
After that.
I gripped the edge of my chair.
My son kicked.
Arturo’s face did not move.
“This communication has been turned over to investigators.”
Rodrigo stood so fast his chair hit the wall.
“I didn’t mean the accident.”
Detective Reyes entered the boardroom then.
Not alone.
Two officers followed.
Rodrigo stared at them.
Fernanda whispered, “Rodrigo, shut up.”
Too late.
Detective Reyes approached him.
“Rodrigo Alcázar, we need you to come with us for questioning regarding suspected corporate fraud, evidence tampering, and matters connected to the vehicle service of Julián Mendoza.”
Doña Teresa screamed.
Not grief.
Rage.
“You cannot do this here!”
Detective Reyes looked at her.
“Señora, your family seems to prefer public settings.”
Rodrigo was escorted out.
Fernanda looked like she might faint.
I felt nothing.
That frightened me.
No satisfaction.
No revenge.
Only a deep cold space where shock had frozen everything else.
Arturo continued the meeting because Arturo was a man who believed emotional collapse should not interrupt governance.
“The board will vote to suspend Teresa Mendoza and Fernanda Mendoza from any advisory, ceremonial, or operational roles pending investigation.”
The vote was unanimous.
Doña Teresa stared at the directors.
Men who had eaten at her table.
Women who had kissed her cheek at galas.
Nobody defended her.
Power leaves quietly when the paperwork changes.
After the meeting, Arturo called me privately.
“Lucía, I am sorry you had to see that.”
“Did they kill him?”
He paused.
“We do not know. The car service records are suspicious. The brake system shows tampering inconsistent with normal wear, but investigators need more.”
I closed my eyes.
“And Julián knew?”
“He suspected fraud. I do not think he knew the vehicle might be targeted.”
That did not comfort me.
It only gave guilt a different hallway to walk.
I should have stopped him.
I should have asked more questions.
I should have made him stay home.
Marisol, standing behind me, touched my shoulder.
“You are doing it again.”
“What?”
“Making yourself responsible for other people’s evil.”
I wanted to argue.
I had no strength.
That evening, I finally watched Julián’s private video.
Alone.
In our bedroom.
He appeared on screen wearing the same navy sweater.
But this time, his eyes were softer.
“Lucía,” he said. “If you are watching this, I am either dead or something has happened that scared you enough to ask Arturo for the private file.”
I pressed a fist to my mouth.
He smiled sadly.
“I hate that I have to leave love inside legal instructions. You deserved songs, not affidavits.”
A sound escaped me.
Half laugh.
Half sob.
He continued.
“I know my mother has hurt you. I know I failed sometimes by trying to manage her instead of stopping her. I am sorry. You were not too sensitive. You were not imagining it. She wanted a family that obeyed her more than she wanted a son who was happy.”
Tears ran down my face.
“I protected the house because it is where I was happiest. I protected the company because thousands of people depend on it. I protected the trust because our son should inherit more than a name. But most of all, I protected you because loving you was the clearest decision of my life.”
He looked down.
When he looked up again, his eyes were wet.
“Name him whatever feels right. If you want my suggestion, Mateo. Because when I imagined him, I imagined a gift.”
I broke then.
Fully.
I paused the video and cried until my body hurt.
Then I placed one hand on my belly.
“Mateo,” I whispered.
May you like
Our son kicked once.
As if answering his father.
