Right after our divorce, my ex demanded my black card for his mistress—but when I blocked it, his family’s pride shattered in front of everyone

voice of an operator.

“Check my card immediately,” Alejandro ordered authoritatively. “I’m in the hospital and the card isn’t working.”

Silence fell on the other end of the line. The sound of a keyboard clicking could be heard. When the operator spoke again, her voice no longer had its former friendliness. It had become cold and official.