Chapter 7 - The Eviction Notice at the Penthouse
At 7:00 PM, while Leo was safely settled in the luxury guest suite of the Drake Hotel with my trusted sister Sarah, three Cook County Sheriff’s deputies and two commercial locksmiths arrived at the Lincoln Park penthouse.
I stood beside Chief Deputy Marcus Hayes as he knocked heavily on the double doors of Unit 4B.
The door swung open.
Julian stood there in his silk shirt, holding a glass of scotch, with Evelyn lounging on the velvet sofa behind him in an evening gown.
“What is the meaning of this?” Julian scoffed, looking at the uniformed deputies. “Officer, I already told you, my wife is trespassing on marital property—!”
Deputy Hayes stepped forward, cutting him off with a heavy hand against the doorframe.
“Julian Vance,” Deputy Hayes announced in a booming voice. “Pursuant to the emergency order signed two hours ago by Judge William Thornton of the Circuit Court, you are hereby served with an immediate Writ of Exclusive Possession and Summary Ejection.”
Julian’s glass slipped from his fingers, shattering across the hardwood floor. “What? That’s impossible! I filed for separation on Friday!”
“Your fraudulent petition was dismissed with extreme prejudice thirty minutes ago, Mr. Vance,” Arthur Vance said, stepping out from behind the deputies. “This penthouse is held 100% within the Vance Family Ancestral Trust, established in 1994 before your marriage existed. You have zero equity, zero tenancy rights, and zero legal standing.”
Evelyn jumped off the sofa, shrieking in panic: “You can't throw us out! Our clothes are here! My jewelry is in the closet!”
“You have exactly fifteen minutes to collect your essential personal effects in the presence of these officers, Miss Cross,” Deputy Hayes stated coldly. “Anything you leave behind will be placed in commercial storage at your personal expense.”
The two locksmiths immediately stepped past Julian, their power drills whirring as they began boring out the custom deadbolts on the front door, replacing them with high-security electronic digital keypads coded exclusively to my biometric profile.
Julian lunged toward me in the hallway, his face twisted into an ugly, desperate rage.
“Clara! You can't do this to me! Where is my son? Where is Leo?”
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I looked at him with the cold, detached gaze of a stranger.
“My son is safe with people who actually love him, Julian,” I said quietly. “And as for you? You have fourteen minutes left before these deputies drag you out of my building in handcuffs.”
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