Chapter 5 - A House Built on Quicksand
By two in the morning, the Pryce mansion was an active war zone.
Luggage was piled high in the grand foyer. Brynn sat on an ottoman, sobbing hysterically into a silk handkerchief while Daphne paced back and forth, clutching a bottle of scotch. Nolan was tearing through Walter’s ground-floor study, turning desk drawers upside down in a manic search for share certificates.
""Where are they?!"" Nolan roared, flinging tax returns across the Persian rug. ""Where did the old man put the voting proxies?!""
""They aren't there, Nolan,"" a calm voice said.
Nolan whipped around. Walter sat in his high-backed leather armchair by the fireplace, sipping a glass of water, watching his grandson’s descent into madness with quiet sorrow.
""Granddad, you have to reverse it,"" Nolan pleaded, falling to his knees beside the chair, grabbing Walter’s arm. ""You can't give the company to her! She’s not family! She seduced Silas Rowan! Can't you see she played us all along?!""
""Maren didn't seduce anyone,"" Walter said sternly, pulling his arm away from Nolan’s desperate grip. ""Silas Rowan approached her because he recognized the only person in this family who possessed a functioning brain. For four years, Nolan, she begged me not to cut you out of the will. Every time you overdrew your accounts in Europe, she balanced the ledger. She hid your incompetence to protect your future. And how did you repay her?""
Walter pointed his cane toward the foyer, where Brynn’s sniffling could still be heard.
""You brought your pregnant concubine into her home. You tried to throw her out of her own bedroom. You treated her like dirt beneath your shoes.""
""I was young! I was confused!"" Nolan shouted, tears of pure rage spilling down his face. ""I was forced into that marriage!""
""You begged me to marry her,"" Walter reminded him coldly. ""When you were twenty-four, you swore she was the only woman who ever understood you. But you are a coward, Nolan. The moment you realized being a husband and a leader meant responsibility, you ran. And now, you will pay the price.""
Upstairs, the door to the master suite was open.
Maren wasn't packing her bags to leave in defeat. She was packing Nolan’s belongings.
Two private security guards provided by Rowan Security stood at the doorway, arms folded, stone-faced. Inside, Maren was methodically throwing Nolan’s tailored suits, his Italian leather shoes, and his luxury watch cases into heavy canvas duffel bags.
Brynn stood at the doorway, clutching her belly, her tear-stained face pale and terrified.
""Maren, please,"" Brynn begged, her voice stripped of all its former smug superiority. ""Think about the baby. Where are we supposed to go? Nolan promised me we would raise our son here! If the company drops him, we have nothing!""
Maren zipped up the last duffel bag and set it by the door. She looked at Brynn with cool, unyielding pity.
""You should have thought about your child before you spent four years living off stolen money with a married man,"" Maren said calmly. ""You wanted Nolan Pryce the billionaire playboy. Now you have Nolan Pryce the unemployed debtor. Let’s see how long your great love lasts when the private jets stop flying.""
Nolan stormed up the staircase, bursting into the room. ""What the hell do you think you're doing?!""
""I’m evicting you,"" Maren said, picking up her small leather handbag.
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""This is my family's house!"" Nolan screamed.
""This house is owned by Pryce Holdings LLC,"" Maren stated, handing a legal notice to one of the security guards. ""Which is now fifty-one percent controlled by the board. Walter and I voted thirty minutes ago to terminate your residence. You have twenty minutes to collect your bags and clear the premises, Nolan. Or Mr. Rowan’s security team will throw you out into the snow.""
