Chapter 5 - The Eviction
At seven o'clock that evening, two marked sheriff's cruisers pulled into the circular driveway of our suburban estate. I stood on the wide front porch, wrapped in a comfortable wool cardigan, holding a warm mug of tea. Through the bay window of the living room, Maya was happily sitting on the carpet, coloring in a picture book under the watchful, loving eye of my sister Sarah, whom I had called immediately after the hearing.
A silver sports car pulled up behind the police cruisers. Julian stepped out, flanked by two armed deputies.
He had removed his tie, his hair was disheveled, and the arrogance that usually defined his walk was replaced by a rigid, bitter fury. He looked at the house—the stone facade, the landscaped garden, the manicured lawn—realizing that every brick was slipping out of his grasp.
"Deputy Miller," I said pleasantly as the officers walked up the steps. "The master bedroom closet has been cleared of everything except his personal wardrobe. Two suitcases are waiting inside the foyer."
"Thank you, ma'am," Deputy Miller said politely. "We’ll make this quick."
Julian charged up the steps, glaring at me. "You think you're clever, don't you, Elena? You think a temporary ruling makes you a winner? My attorneys will appeal this tomorrow morning. By next week, you'll be out on the street where you belong!"
"Mr. Vance, lower your voice or you will wait in the patrol car," Deputy Miller warned, placing a heavy hand on his duty belt.
Julian clenched his jaw, his eyes blazing. "You set me up. You used our daughter to spy on me."
"No, Julian," I replied, my voice dropping to a low, icy whisper that only he could hear. "You set yourself up the moment you looked at our innocent child and saw a weapon instead of a daughter. Maya wasn't spying. Maya was surviving you. And like any child who loves her mother, she protected me the only way she knew how."
"She’s my blood!" he hissed.
"Then you should have treated her like family instead of an alibi," I countered. "Pack your bags, Julian. Your twenty minutes are ticking."
Inside, the deputies supervised as Julian hastily shoved his Italian suits, designer shoes, and watches into two large leather duffels. Every time he tried to reach for art pieces or decorative silver, Deputy Miller firmly guided his hands away.
"Clothing and toiletries only, sir. Per the court order."
As Julian hauled his bags out the front door, his mother pulled up in her luxury sedan, honking frantically. She rolled down the window, screaming obscenities toward the porch, accusing me of witchcraft and extortion.
Deputy Miller walked down the lawn, tapped on Evelyn’s window, and informed her that if she blew the horn once more, she would be cited for disturbing the peace and harassment. Evelyn rolled her window up in a huff, locking her doors.
Julian tossed his duffels into the trunk of his car, turned to face me one last time, and pointed a trembling finger. "You won't get a single penny from Vance Enterprises. I'll burn the company to the ground before I let you take it!"
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"The receiver is already reviewing your servers, Julian," I called back calmly. "You don't own the company anymore. You're just a shareholder under federal investigation."
He climbed into his car and sped off into the twilight, his tires screeching violently against the asphalt.
