Chapter 3 - The Eviction Tantrum
"Clara?" Derek stammered, his gaze darting from the officers' badges to the crisp bandage on my face, and finally to Elena standing armed with a legal briefcase. "What... what is this? Officer, there's a misunderstanding here. My wife had an emotional breakdown yesterday and ran off. We’re working things out privately."
"Step aside, sir," Officer Rodriguez instructed in a tone that brooked no debate. "We have an emergency temporary restraining order signed by the Eleventh Judicial Circuit Court, along with an immediate writ of exclusive possession."
Suzanne suddenly appeared behind her brother, wrapped in my favorite cashmere robe, holding a glass bowl filled with imported fruit from my refrigerator. Her eyes went wide, but her instinctual arrogance took over. "Who do you think you are, bringing cops to our apartment? Derek owns this place! You can't just barge in here and kick us out of his home!"
"Quiet, Suzanne," Derek snapped nervously, though his chest puffed out as he faced Elena. "You're Clara's lawyer, right? Look, lady, I don't know what lies she told you, but Florida is a community property state. We're married. My name is on this asset. You can't legally kick me out of my own primary residence without a full evidentiary hearing."
Elena chuckled, pulling a bright blue folder from under her arm. "Mr. Vance, this unit was purchased on March 14, 2018. You married my client on November 20, 2022. You never contributed to the mortgage, you were never added to the title, and the sole deed is recorded under Clara Vance as separate non-marital property. Furthermore, you committed felony aggravated battery with a hot liquid yesterday morning, which invalidates any claim of equitable occupancy."
Suzanne dropped her glass bowl. It shattered against the Italian marble entryway, sending shards and fruit scattering across the floor. "Derek, what is she talking about? You told me you bought this penthouse when your startup sold out!"
Derek’s face drained of color, turning an awful shade of mottled grey. "Clara, come on. Let’s go into the bedroom and talk like adults. You're ruining my reputation in front of the building. Think about everything we built together!"
"You built nothing here, Derek," I said, stepping past the threshold into the foyer. "You brought three suitcases of clothes, a leased luxury car you couldn't afford, and endless demands for your sister's debts. Officer, please remove them."
May you like
"You have fifteen minutes to gather your clothing and personal toiletries," Officer Rodriguez told Derek firmly, unsnapping the retention strap on his holster. "Anything you try to touch that belongs to Mrs. Vance will result in an immediate charge for grand larceny. Move."
For the next ten minutes, Derek scrambled through the master closet like a frantic child, shoving shirts into garbage bags while Suzanne sobbed hysterically in the hallway, forced to strip off my robe and stand in her mismatched pajamas. When Joe the locksmith clicked the brand-new high-security deadbolt into place, the metallic snap sounded like the final gavel falling on four years of misery.
