Chapter 12 - The Eviction NoticeThree days later, a crisp Tuesday morning brought the ultimate irony to the doorstep of Margaret’s lavish suburban townhouse—the temporary rental she had retreated to after losing her primary estate.
I sat in the passenger seat of my sedan, parked across the quiet, tree-lined street, watching through polarized sunglasses as two county sheriff deputies walked up the paved walkway. Behind them carried a licensed court-appointed bailiff holding a massive stack of asset-seizure warrants.
Through the front window, I could see Margaret standing in her hallway, wrapped in a silk bathrobe, holding a porcelain teacup. The moment she opened the door and saw the official uniforms, the color drained completely from her face.
I watched as the lead deputy handed her a thick sheaf of legal papers. Margaret’s hands shook so violently that her teacup slipped from her fingers, shattering into a hundred porcelain shards against the hardwood porch floor. She shrieked something in sheer, unadulterated panic, pointing frantically toward the street as if demanding the deputies arrest the wind itself.
My phone rang inside the car. It was an unknown local number, but I knew precisely who was calling. I swiped to answer and pressed the speakerphone button.
"Claire! You demonic, ungrateful bitch!" Margaret’s voice screeched through the receiver, cracking with raw hysteria. "Your lawyers just seized our commercial plaza downtown! They locked out all our retail tenants! We have nothing left! How could you do this to us?"
I kept my voice calm, smooth, and chillingly quiet.
"You taught me how to survive in this family, Margaret," I answered softly. "You told me I forgot my place. Well, I found it. My place is at the very top, watching you reap everything you’ve sown."
"Please!" Margaret sobbed, her aristocratic pride completely shattered as she broke down into pathetic whimpers. "We're elderly! We have no money for food, let alone legal fees! Have mercy—let’s negotiate!"
"You didn't have mercy on my father when you stole his life insurance eleven years ago," I said, my voice hardening like steel. "And you didn't have mercy on me when your daughter struck my face at my own anniversary dinner. Enjoy your new reality, Margaret."
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I hung up the phone, rolled up the car window, and drove away without looking back.
With the Mercer matriarch defeated, where is Vivian, and what dangerous move is she planning next? Discover Chapter 13...
