Chapter 3 - The Eviction Notice
Bruno snatched the paper from my hand, his eyes scanning the first few lines. Within seconds, his pupils dilated in stark terror, his hands beginning to shake so violently the crisp letter rustled loudly in the quiet room.
“W-What is this?” Bruno stammered, looking up at me as if I had suddenly transformed into a monster. “This... this isn't real. This is a joke.”
Amber snatched the paper out of her son’s grip, her eyes darting across the legal jargon. As the realization hit her, she let out a piercing shriek that rattled the medical equipment.
“Fraud! This is an illegal conspiracy!” Amber shrieked, waving the paper in the air. “You can't do this! That house is ours! The accounts are ours!”
I leaned back against the pillows, letting out a cold, humorless laugh. “Read the second injunction, Indigo. Go on. Read the part about whose name is actually on the deed.”
Indigo lunged forward, snatching the second document from the process server’s hand. His face turned an ugly, mottled purple. As it turned out, during my ten years of marriage, while Bruno and his parents played the lords of the manor, they had grown lazy. Every single refinancing document, every mortgage payment, and every structural loan associated with the "family legacy" gated mansion had been handled by me—the professional corporate accountant.
Three years ago, when Bruno convinced me to help him secure a low-interest commercial loan for his failing business, I quietly restructured the primary title deeds. The gated suburban house was no longer in Bruno’s name, nor his parents'. It was legally deeded entirely to a private trust under my maiden name, with absolute immunity from marital asset-splitting due to a hidden prenuptial clause Bruno had signed a week before our wedding without reading the fine print.
“The house is no longer yours,” I said, my voice echoing off the sterile walls like a death sentence. “Neither are the corporate accounts you thought you controlled. As of 8:00 AM this morning, Marcus froze every single liquid asset tied to Bruno’s business accounts to recover damages for corporate embezzlement I uncovered in your family’s shell companies last night.”
Bruno staggered backward, his knees knocking against the visitor's chair. “Embezzlement? Jade, you’re insane! You can’t do that! We’re married! Everything I have is—was—ours!”
“It was never ours, Bruno,” I corrected him sharply, my eyes flashing with a lifetime of repressed fury. “It was mine. Every promotion I earned, every bonus I poured into household expenses while you funded your mother’s extravagant lifestyle—I documented every single penny. And last night, while you were sleeping soundly, Marcus filed emergency civil forfeiture motions based on physical battery, spousal abuse, and corporate fraud.”
Indigo stepped forward, his face twisted into an ugly mask of rage, lifting a trembling finger to point at me. “You ungrateful little bitch! We took you in! We made you somebody! You’ll pay for this with every drop of— Watch who you threaten, old man,” a deep, commanding voice interrupted from the doorway.
Marcus stepped into the room, flanked by two armed security guards and a local police precinct captain. Marcus’s tailored suit was immaculate, his expression utterly ruthless as he surveyed the three trembling Vances.
May you like
“Mr. and Mrs. Vance,” Marcus said smoothly, flashing a cold, predatory smile. “I’d advise you to keep your hands to yourselves. Assaulting a client in a hospital room while she’s recovering from a previous violent attack adds felony conspiracy and witness intimidation to your growing criminal rap sheet.”
The police captain stepped inside, placing his hand heavily on his holster. “Mr. and Mrs. Vance, Mr. Indigo Vance. You are all formally trespassed from this hospital floor. And I suggest you check your phones, because local deputies are currently executing an eviction order at your suburban address.”
