Chapter 4 - The Midnight Eviction
"Now," I said, turning to the security team. "The party is officially over. Investors, board members, members of the press—thank you for coming to my grandmother's true memorial celebration. A full press release with the complete forensic audit will be emailed to your offices by 8:00 AM."
The guests didn't need to be told twice. They rushed for the exits, wanting to distance themselves from the radioactive corporate scandal unfolding on the stage. Within ten minutes, the massive ballroom was empty, save for myself, Mr. Harrison, the guards, and the two conspirators.
Celeste glared at me, her teeth chattering from a mix of rage and the draft still blowing in from the terrace. "You think you've won? I'm not leaving this house. I have tenant rights. You have to legally evict me, which takes months."
"I love that you brought up the law, Celeste," I smiled, stepping closer until I could smell the expensive wine on her breath. "Mr. Harrison, would you mind explaining the specific clause in the Vance Manor property trust?"
Mr. Harrison stepped forward, holding open a thick, leather-bound deed. "Gladly. The Vance Manor is registered under a private family heritage trust, not standard residential property law. According to Section 9, any individual found by the executor to be actively damaging the reputation or financial stability of the trust estate can be removed immediately under a corporate trespass mandate, provided forty-eight hours of notice was served."
"But you didn't give me forty-eight hours of notice!" Celeste snarled.
I pulled out my phone and played a recorded audio file. It was a voicemail I had left on Celeste’s phone exactly two days ago, immediately after Grandma passed. 'Celeste, this is your official notice regarding your status at the estate under the new trust terms. Prepare your things.'
"You didn't listen to the voicemail, did you?" I asked softly. "You were too busy planning your victory party. You deleted it, assuming it was just me begging for mercy."
Grant was white as a sheet. "What about me? I don't live here! My assets are separate!"
"Your assets are tied to the marital estate, Grant. Or rather, they were," I said, tossing the divorce papers at his feet. "Since you committed marital fraud by using corporate funds to finance your affair with my stepmother, our prenuptial agreement is completely voided. You are leaving this marriage exactly how you entered it: broke, with a mountain of law school debt that I am no longer responsible for paying."
Two police cruisers pulled up the long, snowy driveway, their red and blue lights flashing through the frosted glass windows of the ballroom.
"I took the liberty of calling the authorities to assist with the corporate trespass removal," I said, pointing toward the front entrance. "The police are here to ensure you leave the property tonight. Not tomorrow. Now."
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"It's freezing outside!" Celeste shrieked, looking at her bare shoulders and evening gown. "My clothes, my jewelry, my furs are all upstairs!"
"Everything inside this house was purchased with Vance corporate funds over the last eighteen months—funds you stole," I said. "Everything upstairs is now evidence in a grand larceny investigation. You can leave with the clothes on your back and the one dollar Grandma left you."
