Chapter 5 - Eviction Notice for the Golden Boy
Leaving the boardroom was only the beginning of Daniel's nightmare.
Accompanied by two building security guards, he was escorted down to his corner office on the twenty-second floor. His personal effects had already been packed into two cardboard banker boxes. The modern artwork on the walls—purchased by Northstar—remained untouched. His laptop, company tablet, and executive parking pass had been confiscated at the front desk.
When he reached the underground garage, he pressed the key fob for the black Porsche Cayenne he had driven for two years. Nothing happened.
A security officer stepped up behind him. ""Mr. Whitmore, that vehicle is titled under Northstar Fleet Management. Please surrender the keys.""
""This is my car!"" Daniel shouted, his voice echoing pathetically against the concrete pillars.
""The registration is in the glove box under Northstar Hospitality LLC,"" the guard replied stoically, extending an open palm. ""If you do not hand over the keys, Chicago PD will be dispatched for auto theft.""
With shaking hands, Daniel detached the Porsche fob from his ring, leaving him with only a single house key—a key that he was about to discover was entirely useless.
He called an Uber using his personal checking account, which had plummeted to barely four hundred dollars after the Aspen fiasco, and rode in humiliated silence back to our luxury high-rise condominium in the Gold Coast.
When he stepped out of the elevator onto our private floor, his two cardboard boxes in hand, he found the locks completely changed. Standing beside the doorway was a certified process server holding a manila envelope.
""Daniel Whitmore?"" the man asked.
""What do you want?"" Daniel snarled.
""You've been served,"" the man said, handing him the envelope before stepping into the elevator.
Inside was a temporary restraining and exclusive-possession order issued that very morning. The penthouse had been purchased in 2014 by the Montgomery Family Trust, entirely prior to our marriage. Under Illinois property law, it was classified as non-marital real estate. Daniel had no legal claim to set foot inside without my written consent.
Sitting beside the door were four large suitcases containing his clothes, shoes, and toiletries. Taped to the top suitcase was an envelope containing his personal passport, his birth certificate, and a single handwritten note from me:
Don't turn this into another drama about yourself. Have a peaceful little holiday.
Ten minutes later, Daniel was standing on the snowy sidewalk of Lake Shore Drive, surrounded by his luggage, his phone battery down to twelve percent, with nowhere to go.
He called his mother.
""Mom,"" he choked out, his voice finally cracking under the weight of total defeat. ""I need you to come pick me up.""
May you like
""Daniel?"" Patricia wept on the other end. ""We can't! Robert’s brother won't lend us any more cash, the landlord for our townhouse called saying our rent check bounced because the corporate account is frozen, and everyone in our country club is texting me asking why Northstar issued a press release about corporate theft! What did Claire do to us?!""
""She didn't do anything to us, Mom,"" Daniel realized, his voice trembling as the bitter Chicago wind cut through his designer jacket. ""She just stopped carrying us.""
