Chapter 5 - The Grand Coup
By Friday afternoon, the legal machinery of Marcus Alden had moved with silent, devastating precision.
A state chancery judge had signed an emergency decree declaring Allison Claire Vance the sole lawful owner of Gull’s Rest, issuing an immediate restraining order that barred Victoria Vance Sterling from exercising any managerial or proprietary control over the premises.
Furthermore, because Victoria had signed the vendor contracts using her voided shell LLC, the legal liability for thirty-two separate event vendors—the florists, the five-star caterers, the private security firm, the live swing orchestra—had automatically reverted to her personal accounts.
At 8:00 AM on Saturday morning, six hours before the guests were scheduled to arrive, I stood in the grand foyer of Gull’s Rest.
Daniel stood beside me, wearing a crisp black suit, while two uniformed Charleston County deputies stood discrete guard near the front entrance.
The double mahogany doors swung open with a resounding thud.
Aunt Victoria marched into the foyer, looking magnificent in a floor-length lavender mother-of-the-bride designer gown, her diamond necklace flashing under the crystal chandelier.
Behind her came Madison, already in her silk bridal robe, clutching an iced latte and barking into her phone at her makeup artist.
"What on earth is that police cruiser doing parked on my oyster-shell lawn?" Victoria roared, storming into the marble atrium without noticing who was standing by the stairs.
I stepped out from behind the grand spiral staircase, holding a crystal glass of sweet tea, wearing a tailored cream linen pantsuit that radiated effortless authority.
"Good morning, Aunt Victoria," I spoke, my voice ringing clear and steady off the high plaster ceiling. "Welcome to Gull's Rest."
Victoria froze mid-stride, her designer sunglasses slipping down the bridge of her nose.
Madison stopped in her tracks, nearly dropping her iced latte onto the antique Persian runner. "Allison? What the hell are you doing here? Mom, didn't you tell her she wasn't invited?"
"She isn't invited," Victoria hissed, recovering her arrogant scowl and stepping toward me with a raised finger. "You have five seconds to gather your things and get off this private property, Allison, or I will have those deputies drag you down the driveway in front of the caterers!"
Deputy Miller stepped forward from the shadow of the archway, his hand resting casually on his utility belt.
"Mrs. Sterling," Deputy Miller said in a flat, heavy drawl. "I suggest you lower your finger before I cite you for disorderly conduct on private residential premises."
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Victoria blinked, looking between the deputy and me in mounting bewilderment. "Deputy, this is my family's estate! I am hosting a society wedding here today!"
"Actually, Victoria," Marcus Alden announced, stepping out of the library carrying a red-ribboned judicial folder. "You are hosting an illegal commercial gathering on real property deeded exclusively to your niece."
