Chapter 5 - The Eviction
Grant looked up, bewildered. "What do you mean? Holloway is my name."
"Not on the deeds, it isn't," Marcus Vance said, stepping forward with another legal document. "Pursuant to the post-nuptial amendment executed five years ago when Mr. Holloway requested three million dollars from Mrs. Holloway's family trust to fund his initial stock buy-in, an infidelity clause was enacted. Clause 14B: Any documented breach of marital fidelity involving company funds results in an immediate forfeiture of all shared real estate, including the Lake Shore Drive penthouse, the Geneva lake house, and the equestrian estate."
Grant scrambled to his feet, staring at Marcus. "That agreement was conditional! It required proof of cohabitation!"
"We have forty-eight hours of high-definition surveillance footage from the penthouse on Lake Shore Drive," Marcus replied coolly. "Including footage from last night, when you carried Ms. Reed across the threshold. The locks were changed two hours ago, Mr. Holloway. Your personal belongings—clothing, toiletries, and personal electronics—have been packed into six standard wardrobe boxes and deposited in a secure storage unit in Cicero. The access code has been emailed to your personal account."
"My penthouse?" Grant breathed, his chest heaving. "You threw me out of my own home?"
"It was never your home, Grant," I said, rising smoothly to my feet. "My grandfather built that building. My father bought that penthouse before you and I ever met at Northwestern. You lived there as my guest. And tonight, your stay has expired."
Madison let out a sharp, hysterical laugh from the corner of the table. "He doesn't have anything," she muttered, wiping her mascara with a napkin. "He doesn't have a single dime of his own. You broke bastard. You lied to me about everything."
"You shut your mouth!" Grant screamed, wheeling on her. "You wouldn't even have a career if I hadn't pushed your firm's contract through my procurement team!"
"Which is also being terminated tonight," Harold Holloway stated, tapping his cane once against the floorboards. "Ms. Reed’s marketing firm will receive formal notice of contract cancellation first thing tomorrow morning, alongside a civil suit for fraudulent billing. As for you, Grant... the board meets formally at eight o'clock tomorrow morning to accept your resignation. If you do not tender it voluntarily, we will hand over the Vance audit directly to the Department of Justice."
Grant’s legs gave out, and he slumped into the chair Madison had occupied an hour earlier. His designer suit looked rumpled. The hair he spent twenty minutes styling in the morning was disheveled. In less than forty-five minutes, his career, his fortune, his social standing, and his marriage had evaporated into thin air.
May you like
"Claire," Grant whispered, staring blankly at the red folder. "What am I supposed to do?"
"You're going to pay your bill," I said, picking up my vintage Chanel clutch from the credenza. "Because Ethan is waiting outside, and this anniversary dinner was billed under your name."
