When I divorced Álvaro Rivas, I didn’t fight for the house, the money, or even custody of my son Mateo. After years of legal battles, I was too exhausted.

I accepted limited visits and swallowed my anger—asking for only one thing in return:

“I’m taking your mother.”

Álvaro agreed instantly, even paying me €5,000 to take her away.

His mother, Carmen, had lived with us for years. Frail in appearance but sharp-minded, she remembered everything—especially the lies Álvaro told. That was why he wanted her gone.

We moved into a small apartment and lived quietly. But a month later, Carmen took me to a notary and revealed the truth: she owned 62% of Álvaro’s company. He had only been running it because she allowed it.