Chapter 3 - The Cold Eviction
Judith looked like she was about to faint. Her haughty posture crumpled into frantic panic. ""Claire, darling... listen to me. Derek made a mistake. Young men do foolish things when they feel neglected by their busy wives! You can't blame him for feeling lonely when you were always in conference rooms. We are a family! You can't just throw away seven years of marriage over a few misunderstandings and financial mix-ups!""
""Misunderstandings?"" I scoffed, turning on her with a gaze so venomous she instinctively took a step back. ""Judith, when I left on Monday, my mother could barely grip a coffee cup because her rheumatoid arthritis was flaring up so badly. I gave you four thousand dollars in cash specifically to hire a private housekeeping service and order catered dinners for the week so she wouldn't have to lift a finger.""
Judith blinked rapidly, looking down at her manicured nails.
""Where is that cash, Judith?"" I asked. ""Did you hire the cleaners? Did you order the food? Or did you spend it on Tuesday morning at the luxury spa in Nashville, as my investigator's surveillance report confirms?""
Judith opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
""You sat on the couch while a sixty-five-year-old woman with severe joint pain carried my daughter on her back, cooked your meals from scratch, and scrubbed the grime off your son's collar,"" I said, my voice shaking with raw, controlled fury. ""You treated the woman who gave me life like an unpaid domestic servant in the very house my hard work paid for. You had the audacity to scream at her about boiled potatoes while your grown sons played video games and scrolled social media.""
""Claire, please,"" Derek pleaded, his arrogance entirely shattered, replaced by the pathetic whimper of a trapped rat. ""Let's just go back across the street. Let's sit down, just the two of us, without the lawyers. We can work this out. I’ll break things off with Chloe completely. I'll pay back every cent from the account. Just don't destroy our family over this.""
""Our family was destroyed the moment you decided my mother’s dignity was worth less than your comfort,"" I said coldly.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out my smartphone, and tapped the screen. A second later, two large, uniform-clad private security officers walked up the limestone steps, stepping cleanly through the open doorway.
""Mr. and Mrs. Donnelly,"" the lead officer said in a deep, authoritative tone. ""My name is Sergeant Miller. We have been contracted by Mrs. Claire Donnelly to secure this property, as well as the residence across the street at 412 Magnolia Drive, which is registered exclusively to Claire Donnelly’s sole-proprietorship corporate trust.""
Derek's eyes bulged. ""What? The house across the street is ours! We bought it together!""
""No, Derek,"" I corrected him smoothly. ""I bought it before we were married. You insisted on being on the deed, but your name was removed two years ago when you signed the refinancing restructuring documents to clear your failed restaurant's half-million-dollar commercial debt. You signed away your rights to the deed to keep your personal credit score intact. Did you forget that?""
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Derek froze, the horrible realization finally dawning on him. In his greed to save himself from bankruptcy years ago, he had legally handed over every shred of equity in the marital home.
""You have thirty minutes to walk across the street, collect your personal clothing, and vacate my property,"" I announced to all three of them. ""Sergeant Miller and his partner will escort you. If you take anything other than your personal garments—if you touch my daughter’s belongings, the furniture, the electronics, or the vehicles registered in my company's name—you will be arrested on the spot for grand larceny.""
