Part 9: The Eviction
"Emiliano... I... that's... that's manipulated!" Patricia stammered, her voice shrill with panic. "It's fake! It's AI! Rosa must have done this!"
"Rosa?" Emiliano laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Rosa doesn't even have a smartphone, Patricia. I watched you do it. Live. From the monitoring room."
Patricia froze. The realization hit her like a freight train. There was no flight to Europe. There was no delay. It was all a trap, and she had walked willingly into the jaws of it.
"You have exactly five minutes to pack whatever you brought into this house," Emiliano commanded, his voice echoing with absolute authority. "If you take so much as a single thread that I paid for, my security team will detain you for grand larceny, and I will hand this footage over to the police, the press, and every high-society friend you have in this city."
May you like
Patricia looked around. The staff, whom she had treated like dirt, were glaring at her. Her empire had crumbled in seconds. Trembling with humiliation and rage, she turned and fled up the stairs.
Emiliano turned to the security chief. "Escort her. Make sure she leaves with nothing but her own cheap luggage. Then change the codes on the gates."
