Chapter 7 - The Eviction Notice
The library erupted into absolute pandemonium as cousins, aunts, and uncles began shouting over one another in wild disbelief.
"Thirty-two million?!" one uncle yelled, knocking his chair backward. "She was just a live-in maid!"
"This is fraud! We will contest this in every court in Illinois!" Marlene screamed, lunging toward the conference table.
"You manipulated him, Hannah! You stole my birthright!"
Before Marlene could reach the table, Rocco stepped forward, his massive frame blocking her path with terrifying physical finality.
"You touch her, Marlene, and you will answer to me," Rocco whispered, his voice dropping into a register that made the room instantly fall dead silent.
Marco and six armed men stepped forward from the perimeter, surrounding the table in an impenetrable tactical cordon.
"You wanted to know about inheritance, Marlene?" Rocco said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Edmund Weller didn't leave his life's work to the vultures who circled his deathbed waiting for scraps."
"He left it to the only person in this family who possessed an ounce of honor."
Arthur Pendelton slid a stack of legal notices across the polished wood toward Marlene and Bram.
"Furthermore," Pendelton announced, his voice ringing clear above the silence.
"Under Section Eight of the new trust, all unauthorized occupants of the primary residence are ordered to vacate the premises within twenty-four hours."
"You're kicking us out of our home?!" Bram stammered, looking at Rocco with wide, terrified eyes.
"This isn't your home, Bram," Rocco replied with cold, unyielding precision.
"This is Hannah Weller’s estate. And as of ten o'clock this morning, the locks on every door have been replaced."
Marlene looked around the grand room, searching for an ally among the relatives she had hosted for years.
Every single cousin, aunt, and uncle looked away, staring down at their shoes, their napkins, or the Persian rug.
Nobody stepped forward to defend her; nobody offered her a word of comfort.
She had built her entire social standing on cruelty disguised as elegance, and now, stripped of her father's wealth, she was completely alone.
"You will regret this, Hannah," Marlene spat, her voice shaking with venom as she gathered her fur wrap.
"You're nothing without that old man's money. You'll always be the girl sitting in the hallway."
Hannah stood up slowly from the leather executive chair, her posture tall, graceful, and radiant with unshakeable dignity.
"I sat in that hallway because you lacked the decency to offer me a chair, Aunt Marlene," Hannah said, her voice ringing clear and steady through the library.
"And yet, even in the cold, I had my grandfather's love."
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"You had forty years to earn his respect, and you traded it for three diamond rings and a pocketful of spite."
"Please pack your belongings and leave my grandfather's house."
