Chapter 5 - The Eviction and the Auction
By day three of my campaign, the siege of the Greenwich mansion reached its inevitable climax.
The local sheriff’s department arrived at 10:00 AM with an official writ of eviction. Teresa and Arthur Senior were finally forced to unlock the east-wing parlor door.
When Teresa stepped out into the grand hallway, she looked like a shadow of her former self. Her manicured hair was wild, her silk blouse crumpled and stained, and her pride completely battered after sixty hours without central heating or hot water.
"You monster!" Teresa shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at me as two sheriff’s deputies escorted her toward the front entrance. "You treated us like animals! We are senior citizens! We are your family!"
"You were guests who overstayed their welcome," I said, standing near the grand staircase with a cup of fresh coffee in my hand. "And you weren't family, Teresa. You were parasites."
Outside, two large moving vans were parked in the circular driveway. Workers were systematically carrying out every piece of furniture, artwork, and clothing that David had purchased over the last three years.
"Where are you taking our things?!" Arthur Senior whimpered, holding a small canvas bag containing his medications.
"To the public auction house in Hartford," I replied calmly. "David owed one point two million dollars to my secondary estate fund. I obtained an expedited asset attachment order yesterday. Everything bought with my money is being liquidated to cover his debt."
"My fur coats?!" Teresa screamed, watching a mover carry out three full-length mink coats from her guest wardrobe. "My diamond earrings?!"
"Purchased on my secondary black card," I noted. "Therefore, they belong to the liquidation pool. You can bid on them at the auction next Tuesday if you have the funds."
Just then, a rusted fifteen-year-old sedan pulled up to the curb outside the gates. David got out of the passenger side. He was staying at a dirty, twenty-dollar-a-night motel near the highway, wearing clothes he had borrowed from an old acquaintance who had taken pity on him.
He ran up the driveway, grabbing his mother’s arm. "Mom! Dad! Are you okay?!"
"David!" Teresa sobbed, throwing her arms around his neck. "She took everything! She’s selling my furs! She turned off the heat! Look at what this terrible woman has done to us!"
David turned to glare at me, his eyes filled with desperate, helpless fury. "Eleanor! Have you no mercy?! They are old people! Where are they supposed to go?!"
"You have a lovely little apartment leased in Tribeca, don't you?" I asked innocently. "Oh wait... I canceled that lease. I suppose you can all share that motel room near the interstate. I hear they have free continental breakfast."
"I will sue you for every dime you have!" David roared, trying to step toward me, but two sheriff deputies instantly stepped in front of him, hands resting on their holsters.
"Mr. Hayes," the head deputy warned sternly. "You have an active restraining order against you. Step off this property immediately, or you will be placed under arrest."
David looked at the deputies, then at his sobbing mother, then up at the grand mansion he had once claimed as his own.
He had no money. No lawyer willing to take his case without a retainer. No corporate title. No mistress—Chloe had fled back to her parents' house in Ohio the moment her accounts were frozen.
He was entirely, completely naked before the world.
May you like
"Move along, Mr. Hayes," the deputy commanded.
David swallowed hard, his throat working desperately. He took his mother’s arm, helped his frail father into the back of the rusted sedan, and slunk away into the cold afternoon air.
