When I asked, he brushed it off—“just paperwork.” But later, Mariana confessed through tears that he had been pressuring her to put the house in both their names.

That’s when everything became clear.

This wasn’t love.

It was control.

That night, I realized something important—the house wasn’t legally hers yet.

It was still mine.

And that changed everything.

With help from a lawyer, I prepared the documents. Then I returned to the villa and gathered everyone in the living room.

“I have something to say,” I announced.

Iván smirked. “Go ahead.”

I held up the papers.

“This house doesn’t belong to Mariana,” I said calmly. “And it definitely doesn’t belong to you. Legally—it’s still mine.”

The room went silent.