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Chapter 5 - The Midnight Eviction

At 11:30 PM, two dark SUVs pulled up the winding, tree-lined driveway of the luxurious lake house in Lake Forest.

Rain was pouring down in sheets, bouncing off the hood of my car as I sat in the passenger seat beside my father. In the vehicle behind us were three uniformed off-duty sheriff’s deputies and a commercial locksmith team I had hired on emergency retainer.

Through the tall front windows of the home, I could see Grant still sitting on the leather sofa, illuminated by the glow of his ring light as he recorded follow-up videos for his social media followers. Standing in the kitchen nearby was Patricia, pouring herself a large glass of red wine.

I stepped out of the vehicle, holding a large black umbrella against the rain, and walked up the stone steps toward the front porch.

My father and two of the deputies walked directly behind me.

I didn't knock. I took out my newly minted owner key, inserted it into the heavy oak front door, turned the deadbolt, and pushed the door wide open.

The sudden gust of cold, wet wind blew through the foyer, making the crystal entry chandelier sway.

Patricia gasped, spilling red wine across the ivory kitchen island. “What in the world—Claire?! How dare you break into my son’s home at this hour!”

Grant scrambled off the couch, holding his phone in mid-record. “Claire! You came back! I knew you’d realize how crazy you were being—”

“Grant Calder,” Deputy Miller stepped forward, pulling a legal warrant from his waterproof coat pocket. “You are ordered to vacate these premises immediately.”

Grant stared at the deputy, his mouth hanging open in complete shock. “Vacate? What are you talking about? This is my family’s house! My father built this place twenty years ago!”

“Your father defaulted on $180,000 in delinquent property taxes, Grant,” I said smoothly, stepping into the warm living room. “The county put the property up for judicial tax auction in July. I purchased the deed, paid off the back taxes, and took legal title three weeks ago. You received three formal notices of eviction sent via certified mail to your corporate office.”

“I... I thought those were routine tax notices!” Grant stammered, his face turning an embarrassing shade of purple. “I didn't open them!”

“Clearly,” I said dryly. “Because if you had opened them, you would know that as of midnight tonight, your right of redemption expired. This house belongs entirely to Apex Capital.”

Patricia marched out of the kitchen, her voice rising to a high-pitched screech. “You can’t do this! You vile, malicious little snake! Where are we supposed to go in the middle of a rainstorm?!”

“I suggest a hotel,” I replied calmly. “Though considering Grant’s credit cards were canceled two hours ago due to corporate loan defaults, you might want to check into a motel that accepts cash.”

“You monster!” Patricia shrieked, lungeing toward me again.

Deputy Miller stepped smoothly between us, putting his arm up. “Ma'am, step back. If you touch Miss Sterling, I will arrest you on the spot for assault.”

The locksmith team walked past us into the foyer, carrying heavy toolboxes. They immediately went to work removing the front door lock cylinders and installing brand-new electronic keypad locks.

“You have fifteen minutes to gather your personal belongings, Grant,” I announced, looking around the opulent living room. “Laptops, clothes, and personal documents only. Any furniture, artwork, or wine left behind will be impounded as corporate assets to satisfy your loan defaults.”

Grant looked at me, his eyes wide with absolute, desperate terror. The confident, charming prince he had pretended to be for eight months had completely dissolved, leaving behind a weak, terrified man who had finally run out of lies.

“Claire... please,” Grant whispered, dropping to his knees on the wooden floor right in front of the deputies. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. Just give me a chance to fix this. I’ll sign whatever you want. I’ll let you control the business. Just don't destroy me like this.”

May you like

I looked down at my husband of six hours, kneeling in front of me in his unbuttoned shirt, weeping on the floor.

“I’m not destroying you, Grant,” I said softly, looking him dead in the eye. “You destroyed yourself the moment you mistook my kindness for weakness.”

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