Fabian Crane presents Rodrigo’s version of the settlement first. It is neat, polished, and insulting.
Rodrigo offers a lump sum payment.
A generous one, by ordinary standards.
But ordinary standards do not apply when the man across from you owns private jets, commercial towers, shares in tech companies, and a family trust worth more than some towns.
He offers you the Brooklyn apartment for two years.
Health insurance for Mateo until age eighteen.
Monthly child support that sounds large until compared to Rodrigo’s actual income.
No admission of fault.
No claim to his business assets.
No spousal support after twelve months.
And a confidentiality clause so strict you would not be allowed to publicly correct lies about your own marriage.
You let Fabian finish.
Then you look at David.
Your attorney slides your folder forward.
“My client rejects the proposal,” he says.
Rodrigo sits back.
“Camila.”
You hold up one hand.
Not emotional.
Not pleading.
Just stopping him.
David continues.
“Ms. Herrera requests full child support based on Mr. Castellan’s verified annual income, not reported salary. She requests permanent housing security for the child, medical coverage, education trusts, childcare costs, and a structured division of marital assets accumulated during the marriage.”
Fabian frowns.
“That’s excessive.”
David turns a page.
“Ms. Herrera also rejects the confidentiality clause unless Mr. Castellan signs a mutual non-disparagement agreement including third-party representatives, romantic partners, publicists, and family offices.”
Renata stiffens.
Good.
David adds, “We are also requesting forensic accounting.”
Rodrigo’s expression changes.
Only slightly.
But you see it.
You were married to him long enough to recognize the flicker of alarm.
Fabian says quickly, “There is no need for that.”
You look at him.
“There is every need.”
Rodrigo leans forward.
“Camila, don’t turn this ugly.”
You almost laugh.
There it is.
The sentence men use after making a mess and discovering the woman brought evidence.
You look at him calmly.
“It became ugly when you brought your girlfriend to the divorce meeting eleven days after I gave birth.”
Renata flinches.
Rodrigo’s face hardens.
“She has nothing to do with the settlement.”
“Then she can leave.”
No one speaks.
Renata looks at Rodrigo, waiting.
He does not ask her to leave.
That answer tells her more than any confession could.
She stands slowly.
“Actually,” she says, voice shaking, “I think I should.”
“Renata,” Rodrigo says.
She looks at him with wet, furious eyes.
“You said you were trapped in a dead marriage. You said she refused to let go. You said there was no child yet, just threats and drama. I sat beside you because I believed you.”
Then her eyes move to Mateo.
Her voice breaks.
“You lied to me too.”
She walks out.
This time, Rodrigo does move.
But only half an inch.
Not enough to follow.
Not enough to stop her.
