Chapter 3 - The Thirty-Minute Eviction
The atmosphere in the living room shattered into pure chaos.
Vanessa stood up abruptly, smoothing down her designer dress, her face contorted with anger. ""You lied to me!"" she hissed at Adrian, no longer bothering to maintain her sweet, soft-spoken facade. ""You told me you were a senior partner! You told me you owned this mansion! You said your wife was living off your charity!""
""Vanessa, please, calm down! The baby—"" Adrian pleaded, scrambling off the couch.
""Don't you talk to me about the baby!"" she snapped back, grabbing her handbag from the side table. ""I quit my administrative job because you promised I would be set for life! You said we would be raising our child in a gated community with private school funding!""
""Look at the bright side, Vanessa,"" I said cheerfully, watching the spectacle from the kitchen island. ""You’re getting Adrian all to yourself. Unburdened by luxury, unburdened by my income, and unburdened by this three-storey roof. Just pure, unadulterated romance.""
Lilibeth turned on me, desperation giving way to raw, cornered venom. ""You heartless witch! You’re going to throw a pregnant woman out into the street? What will the neighbors say? What will people think when they see my son carrying boxes out of his own house?""
""They'll think what they've always thought, Lilibeth—that Adrian was remarkably lucky to have married above his station, and foolish enough to throw it away for someone who only wanted his nonexistent fortune.""
I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and unlocked the screen.
""Sixteen minutes,"" I noted. ""At the fifteen-minute mark, I’m dialing Deputy Miller. He’s our community liaison officer, and he happens to be a close personal friend of my mother. He already knows about Adrian's situation. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to bring two squad cars to help expedite the moving process.""
Mark grabbed his wife’s elbow. ""Chloe, let’s go. We have nothing to do with this. I’m not getting cited for trespassing because your brother couldn't keep his lies straight.""
""Mark, you can't just leave him!"" Chloe protested, but her voice lacked conviction. She looked around the expansive living room, suddenly realizing that all the perks she had enjoyed—the holiday parties, the pool access, the borrowed guest room—were evaporating into thin air.
""He lied to us, Chloe!"" Mark snapped. ""He told everyone he bought this place! He made my family feel like second-class citizens every Thanksgiving while your mother praised him like the second coming of Rockefeller! I'm going to the car.""
Mark turned and walked out the front door, letting the heavy mahogany frame slam shut behind him.
Adrian stood in the center of the foyer, looking completely lost. He had never had to pack his own belongings in four years; I had always folded his shirts, organized his closets, and sent his suits to the dry cleaner.
""Maria, please,"" Adrian begged, tears finally welling in his eyes. ""Let's talk in private. Just ten minutes. We’ve been together six years. You can't just throw me out like garbage.""
""You made yourself garbage the second you brought your mistress into my home to demand I vacate it, Adrian,"" I replied coldly. ""You wanted a peaceful divorce where I quietly disappeared so you could play house with your new family. Well, this is the peaceful divorce. You get your freedom, and I keep my life. Now go upstairs and get your clothes.""
Adrian ran up the curved staircase two steps at a time, panic driving his movements. Lilibeth hurried after him, her frantic voice echoing down from the master suite as she tried to salvage whatever designer goods she could carry.
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Vanessa, meanwhile, stood near the front door, typing frantically on her phone. She didn't look at Adrian once when he came stumbling down the stairs ten minutes later, dragging two oversized suitcases and a garbage bag filled with shoes.
""Time's up,"" I said, glancing at the foyer clock. It was exactly thirty minutes.
