“That’s why I didn’t shut it down sooner,” I replied calmly. “Employees will be protected. Contracts will continue. What ends today is your privilege.”
Doña Teresa began to cry—but too late.
Rodrigo reached for me.
“I loved you…”
I stepped back.
“No. You loved feeling above me.”
I signaled to the staff.
“Thank you for coming to dinner. The food will be donated. You may leave.”
“Are you throwing us out?” Doña Teresa shouted.
I pointed toward the gate.
“In this house, trash is taken out on Tuesdays. Today is Tuesday.”
They left in silence.
No laughter. No pride.
Just reality.
When the gates closed behind them, I exhaled slowly.
It wasn’t revenge.
It was peace.
