Chapter 2 - THE TRUTH IN THE TENSION
The paramedics pushed past a frozen, pale Diane and entered my bedroom. Within minutes, they were wrapping an IV band around my arm, monitoring my pulse, and placing a cooling pack across my forehead. Jonathan Reed stood near the doorway, clad in a sharp charcoal-gray suit that radiated an air of absolute authority. He observed the medical team with calm efficiency, ignoring Diane completely, who stood in the hallway with her arms crossed, her eyes wide with a mixture of rage and terror.
"Her vitals are concerning," the lead paramedic announced, looking up from his tablet. "Temperature is sitting at 104.2 despite the cooling measures, pulse is elevated, and she’s severely dehydrated. We need to take her to WakeMed immediately."
"Do whatever is necessary," Jonathan said firmly. "I will follow right behind the ambulance."
Diane stepped into the frame, her voice screeching into an octave I had never heard before. "You can't just take her! What am I supposed to tell my son?! He left me in charge of this house while he was in Atlanta!"
Jonathan slowly turned to face her. He pulled a slim leather folder from his jacket and held it with two fingers. "First of all, Mrs. Mercer, as I mentioned downstairs, your son does not own this residence. The deed to this four-acre parcel, along with the custom construction, was purchased outright four years ago by the Carter Family Irrevocable Trust. Ethan's name is nowhere on the title. Neither is yours."
"That's absurd!" Diane snapped, her cheeks flushing red. "Ethan pays the mortgage!"
"Ethan pays rent to the estate management company," Jonathan countered smoothly, his tone devoid of any heat. "Rent that, according to my monthly ledger, has been thirty days delinquent for the past five consecutive months. In addition, you have been residing in the guest suite without lease authorization, which constitutes unlawful tenancy."
I lay on the stretcher, staring at Jonathan through a blur of heat and exhaustion. I had known my father was a successful real estate developer before he succumbed to cancer four years ago, but during my engagement to Ethan, Ethan had taken over all negotiations regarding our home. He told me he was handling the mortgage, the down payment, and the paperwork because he "wanted to take care of me." I had been so overwhelmed by grief over my father's passing that I signed whatever trust documents Ethan put in front of me without asking questions.
"Take her to the vehicle," Jonathan instructed the paramedics.
As they rolled my stretcher out of the bedroom, Diane tried to block the doorway. "You listen to me, mister! I don't care who you claim to be. Ethan is going to sue you for this! Ava is his wife! Everything she owns belongs to him!"
"North Carolina is an equitable distribution state, Mrs. Mercer," Jonathan replied, stepping between her and the stretcher. "Assets acquired via inheritance prior to or during marriage, maintained in a separate blind trust, remain sole and separate property. Ethan has zero ownership interest in this estate, the offshore accounts, or the commercial holdings."
Jonathan leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper that made Diane step back. "And if you ever put your hands on Ava again, as you did ten minutes ago when you dragged her out of bed, I will personally file an emergency petition for a protective order and have the local sheriff remove you from these premises before nightfall."
The paramedics maneuvered my stretcher down the broad oak staircase. I closed my eyes as the cold night air hit my skin outside the open front doors. The flashing red and white lights of the ambulance illuminated the dark neighborhood driveway. As they lifted me into the rear of the vehicle, I caught a glimpse of Jonathan standing by his black sedan, dialing a number on his cell phone.
"Jonathan..." I rasped, struggling to speak over the hum of the oxygen mask.
He walked over to the back of the ambulance, looking down at me with deep concern. "Save your strength, Ava. You've been carrying a weight you were never meant to bear. Get treated at the hospital. I am handling everything else."
"Where is Ethan?" I whispered. "Is he really in Atlanta?"
Jonathan's expression shifted into something cold and grim. "He's not in Atlanta, Ava. My office has been tracking his credit transactions for two weeks because of the delinquent trust rent. He hasn't left North Carolina."
My heart gave a painful thud against my ribs. "What?"
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"He's currently checked into a luxury resort in Asheville," Jonathan revealed quietly. "And he isn't alone. He's been using a corporate credit card linked to your late father's holding company—a card he was never authorized to activate."
The doors of the ambulance slammed shut before I could process the words. As the siren began to wail, echoing through the quiet streets of Raleigh, the darkness finally pulled me under.
