Chapter 2 - The Seventy-Two-Hour Ultimatum
Evelyn’s car pulled up to the curb within ten minutes, her hazard lights blinking through the heavy curtain of mountain rain. True to her word, she hopped out immediately, sheltering me and little Lily with an oversized umbrella before bundling us into the warmth of the passenger seat. The heater was blasting, and a clean fleece blanket was already waiting on the center console. As Evelyn navigated the slick Boulder streets toward her modern loft downtown, she listened in grim silence as I detailed Luca’s latest betrayal—how he had waited until I was recovering from major surgery to execute his petty coup, believing that a new mother with a newborn would be too weak, too exhausted, and too dependent to fight back.
“He thinks he’s trapped you,” Evelyn said, her knuckles whitening around the steering wheel as she turned onto Pearl Street. “He thinks that because you have a baby in your arms, you’ll roll over, beg for entry, and let him and his mother dictate the terms of your life.”
“He doesn't know about the cash buyer,” I replied, staring down at Lily, who was still sleeping soundly against my chest. “Phoebe is drafting the paperwork right now. By the time Luca’s flight touches down from Miami, the sale will be locked in stone.”
“Good,” Evelyn said fiercely. “Don't give him an inch. Men like Luca only understand absolute force.”
When we arrived at Evelyn’s loft, we spent the next hour setting up a temporary nursery in her guest room. Lily settled into a makeshift bassinet, warm and safe, while Evelyn brewed a pot of strong chamomile tea. But there was no time to rest. At 11:00 PM, my phone chimed with an encrypted email from Phoebe Reed. Attached was the complete, legally binding purchase agreement for Redwood Crest Drive, featuring a cash offer twenty percent above market value, a seventy-two-hour escrow closure, and an immediate tenant-vacate clause that meant the new owner would take physical possession of the property the moment the ink dried.
I sat at Evelyn’s kitchen island, the blue light of my laptop illuminating the quiet room. My fingers hovered over the digital signature pad. This house held memories of late nights building my company, of independent triumphs, but recently, it had become a cage tainted by Luca’s arrogance and his family’s parasitic entitlement. Signing away the deed wasn't a loss; it was a scorched-earth tactical strike.
“Are you ready?” Evelyn asked softly, placing a warm hand on my shoulder.
“I’ve never been more ready,” I said.
I signed my name with a steady hand, encrypted the document, and sent it straight back to Phoebe’s firm. Within minutes, a confirmation pinged back: Contract executed. Escrow is officially open. Closing is set for Thursday morning at 10:00 AM sharp.
May you like
As I closed the laptop, my phone lit up with a text message notification. It was from Luca. The preview text on the lock screen made a cold smile spread across my face: Jessi, Mom and I are extending our trip through the weekend. Make sure the staff restocks the wine cellar before we’re back. Oh, and stop calling about the alarm codes—you need to learn to give me space to manage the household.
I didn't reply. Let him enjoy his weekend in Miami. The ground beneath his feet was about to vanish completely.
