Chapter 7 - The Eviction Notice
Three days after giving birth, I returned to my Gold Coast penthouse in a private medical transport car.
Victoria was nestled securely in her infant carrier, sleeping peacefully beneath an ivory cashmere blanket.
The penthouse, which my father had purchased for me as a wedding gift, was strangely quiet.
As I stepped through the private elevator doors, I found Adrian sitting on a packed suitcase in the grand foyer.
His clothes were unwashed, dark stubble covered his hollow cheeks, and his eyes were bloodshot from sleeplessness.
On the marble console table sat a pile of legal notices from the county sheriff's department.
“Claire,” Adrian choked out, standing up on shaky legs the moment he saw me holding the baby carrier.
“Thank God you’re home. They wouldn't let me onto the maternity floor. Security turned me away four times.”
I motioned to the nurse assisting me to take Victoria into the nursery down the hall.
Once the nursery door clicked shut, I turned to face the man I had loved for five years.
“You have twenty minutes to remove your personal clothing, Adrian,” I said, my voice empty of anger, carrying only finality.
Adrian dropped to his knees on the polished marble floor, reaching out with trembling hands toward my coat.
“Claire, please! Don't do this to us! I made a horrible, catastrophic mistake!”
“Madison means nothing to me! She manipulated me while you were busy with your architectural foundation!”
I looked down at him with profound detachment, wondering how I had ever mistaken this coward for a partner.
“You held her baby against your chest, Adrian. You wore the robe I bought you for our anniversary.”
“You looked me in the eye and asked for five minutes while your son lay three feet away.”
“I’ll give up everything!” Adrian sobbed, tears spilling down his unshaven face.
“I won't contest the divorce! I’ll sign over the cars, the vacation homes, whatever you want!”
“Just let me see my daughter. Let me be a father to Victoria.”
Marcus Reed stepped out from the library, holding a freshly prepared marital settlement agreement.
“Mr. Sterling, you have no assets left to 'give up,'” Marcus said coldly.
“The forensic audit revealed you used corporate credit to purchase your share of the Aspen chalet and the yacht.”
“Those assets have been seized under federal civil asset forfeiture proceedings.”
“As for custody,” Marcus continued, tapping the document, “you are facing three felony counts of wire fraud and embezzlement.”
“No family court judge in Cook County will grant unsupervised visitation to an indicted felon awaiting trial.”
Adrian looked up at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish pulled onto dry sand.
“Where am I supposed to go? My credit cards are frozen! My mother's savings are tied up in legal retainers!”
I opened the front double doors, where two building security officers stood waiting by the elevator bank.
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“You wanted to build a life with Madison Vale, Adrian,” I whispered softly.
“I suggest you go to her apartment. If she can still afford the rent.”
