Chapter 4 - The Eviction
"Eviction?" Julian hissed, stumbling back up to his feet, his face turning a dark, dangerous shade of purple. The mask of desperation was gone, replaced by the ugly, venomous entitlement that defined his entire family line. "This is my house! My father bought this estate before you were even out of diapers! You can't throw us out!"
"Check your paperwork, Julian," I replied, pulling a fresh document from my briefcase and tossing it onto the marble floor. It skidded across the tiles and came to a stop against his Italian leather shoes.
Julian snatched it up, his eyes scanning the legal text frantically. As the words registered, the color drained entirely from his face, leaving him looking like a corpse.
"The... the mortgage defaulted at midnight," he stammered, his voice dropping to a horrified whisper. "You... you bought our debt? You bought the entire portfolio three years ago?"
"Day one of our marriage, actually," I corrected him cheerfully. "When you proudly signed over financial oversight of your personal holdings to 'simplify' your taxes, you didn't read the fine print. Every square foot of this estate, every car in the garage, every stock certificate in your name was collateralized against a venture capital loan backed entirely by Vance Global. You didn't marry a cleaning woman, Julian. You married your primary creditor."
Beatrice let out a piercing shriek and collapsed back into her armchair, clutching her chest as if she were having a heart attack. "Call an ambulance! She's murdering me! This is murder!"
"Don't worry, Beatrice," I said, signaling to the four armed security guards standing by the double doors. "The paramedics are already waiting outside. Along with the county sheriff and a team of movers who will ensure all your personal belongings are off the premises by sunrise."
Julian lunged forward in a blind, animalistic rage, his fist raised to strike me. "You bitch! I'll kill you!"
May you like
Before his fist could even clear the air, two guards hit him with professional precision, driving him face-first onto the marble floor and pinning his arms behind his back.
"Pack your bags, gentlemen," I said coldly, stepping over Julian's thrashing form. "Your time in my house is up."
