Chapter 3 - The Tables Turn
The air inside the cramped apartment suddenly felt suffocating. Victor Kane’s face drained of color, turning the exact shade of sour milk. The confident, sneering landlord who had terrorized tenants for a decade looked like he had just seen a ghost.
"E-Elias?" Victor stammered, taking a jerky step backward. "Sir... Elias Vance? I... I didn't know—"
"Clearly," Elias interrupted, his gray eyes narrowing. "Ignorance is a luxury you've enjoyed for far too long, Victor. But your tab has finally arrived."
Selena lowered her phone, her hands trembling violently. The live stream was still running, and thousands of viewers across the city were now watching the unfolding disaster in real-time. Comments were scrolling past at lightning speed: Wait, is that Elias Vance?! The billionaire real estate titan?! — Holy crap, the landlord is cooked!
Richard Sterling stepped forward, opening a thick leather portfolio. He pulled out a crisp set of documents and slid them across the table toward Victor.
"Mr. Kane, let me outline your current predicament," Sterling said smoothly, his voice devoid of any warmth. "As of 8:00 AM this morning, Vance Global Holdings has acquired the debt portfolio of every single property you own. Your mortgages have been called in. Your bank accounts associated with Kane Properties have been frozen pending a federal fraud audit. And your commercial licenses are currently being revoked for systemic code violations and tenant extortion."
Victor grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself. "You can't do that! That's... that's a hostile takeover! We have a contract!"
"Contracts require lawful conduct," Elias said, standing up slowly. He walked over to Selena, who shrank back against the wall, terrified to even breathe near him. He reached out, gently tapped the recording phone in her hand, and smiled. "Smile, Miss Kane. You’re live on the only broadcast that matters today: your own professional execution."
Mara stood frozen by the kitchen counter, her mind spinning wildly. Elias Vance? The name echoed in her ears. Everyone in the country knew that name. Elias Vance was the reclusive billionaire philanthropist who owned half the skyscrapers downtown, the man who built an empire from nothing and vanished from public view after a tragic family loss years ago. And he had been bleeding on a dirty sidewalk right outside her apartment.
"Mr. Vance, please," Victor whimpered, his arrogance completely evaporated as he dropped heavily to his knees on the cracked linoleum floor. "Have mercy! I have a family! I have businesses to run!"
"Mercy?" Elias looked down at the man, his expression completely unreadable. "When this young woman brought me in from the cold, bleeding and freezing, did you offer her mercy? When you threatened her innocent brother with fabricated police reports, did you consider his future?"
Victor opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, unable to form a single coherent word.
"Pack your things, Victor," Elias commanded, turning his back on him. "You have exactly twenty minutes to vacate the premises. After that, security will escort you out. And trust me—you will never set foot in this district again."
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As the disgraced landlord was dragged out into the hallway by Sterling’s associates, Elias turned his attention back to Mara, who was still staring at him in utter disbelief.
"And as for you, Mara Bell," Elias said softly, a genuine warmth finally breaking through his stern expression. "It’s time we discussed your rent."
