Chapter 2 - The Midnight Eviction NoticeThirty minutes later, the front doorbell chimed.
Richard, who was currently pouring Brooke a glass of champagne to celebrate their domestic coup, frowned and strode toward the foyer. “Who on earth is ordering packages at this hour?” he muttered, pulling the door open.
It wasn't a delivery driver.
Standing on the porch were two towering private security guards in sharp black suits, flanked by Marcus Vance, my attorney, carrying a thick leather briefcase. Behind them sat two massive moving trucks with their headlights cutting through the suburban dark.
“Can I help you?” Richard snapped, blocking the doorway. “We’re busy. Private residence.”
Marcus didn't flinch. He adjusted his glasses, pulled a formal legal document from his briefcase, and held it up under the porch light.
“Richard Whitman. You are hereby served with an immediate notice of lease termination, a corporate suspension order from Thorne Enterprises, and a preliminary restraining order prohibiting you, Victoria Whitman, and Brooke Miller from entering, residing in, or utilizing any assets belonging to Amanda Thorne.”
The color drained instantly from Richard’s face. The cocky smirk vanished, replaced by a look of sheer, unadulterated shock.
“Are you out of your mind?” Richard roared, his voice booming through the foyer. “This is a joke! Amanda! Amanda, get down here and control your lawyer!”
I walked down the grand staircase at that exact moment. I had changed into a tailored charcoal pantsuit. Ethan was dressed in clean, crisp clothes, clutching his favorite stuffed dinosaur, fast asleep against my shoulder under the care of our trusted, longtime nanny, Mrs. Higgins, whom Richard and Vivian had tried to lock in the pantry earlier that evening.
“There’s no joke here, Richard,” I said, my voice echoing coldly in the marble hall.
Vivian rushed to the front door, her face contorted in fury as she clutched baby Chloe tightly. “How dare you! Do you know who my son is? He is the head of this family! You’re just a hysterical woman throwing a temper tantrum!”
“Actually, Vivian,” Marcus interposed smoothly, holding up a second document, “your son is currently unemployed, locked out of all corporate accounts effective six minutes ago, and legally trespassing on private property owned solely by Amanda Thorne.”
Brooke pushed her way to the front, panic flashing in her eyes. “Wait! You can’t just kick us out into the street! Where are we supposed to go? This is insane!”
“You can go wherever you want,” I replied, stepping past them onto the porch into the cool night air. “Just not under my roof, and not with my money.”
Richard grabbed the doorframe, his knuckles turning white as rage took over. “You’ll ruin me! You think you can just discard me like trash? I’ll take everything you have in the divorce!”
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I paused at the top of the driveway, looking back at the man I had foolishly trusted for five years.
“Divorce, Richard? Oh, no. We aren't getting a divorce. We are getting an annulment based on corporate fraud and asset concealment—and by tomorrow morning, the entire business world is going to watch your pristine reputation burn to ash.”
