Chapter 9 - The Eviction from the Vance Manor
Before Noah and Flora went to the warehouse, a separate operation was underway at the Vance family estate.
Arthur and Wendy Vance were frantically stuffing designer clothes, gold bars, and high-end watches into leather suitcases inside the master bedroom when the front doors were pushed open by federal marshals, accompanied by Julian and Marcus Sterling.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Arthur yelled, standing in the foyer in his bathrobe. “This is our private residence! We have forty-eight hours to vacate!”
Julian handed a certified court order directly to the chief federal marshal.
“Arthur Vance,” the marshal declared, “by order of the Southern District Court, an emergency writ of civil asset seizure has been executed. All personal and real property belonging to the Vance family is now seized as restitution collateral for the thousands of defrauded investors and unpaid municipal fines.”
Wendy shrieked, clutching a fur coat to her chest. “My furs! My diamonds! You can’t take these! I bought them with my own money!”
Two female federal agents stepped forward, calmly removing the fur coat from Wendy’s arms and taking the diamond rings off her trembling fingers.
“Every luxury item in this house was cataloged by Marcus three weeks ago,” Julian stated coldly. “You leave with the clothes on your back and your government identification. Nothing else.”
“You monsters!” Wendy cried, falling to the floor and pounding the carpet. “Where are we supposed to live?! We have no money! All our credit cards are declined!”
“There are several homeless shelters downtown that your fraudulent charity failed to support,” Marcus remarked with sharp irony. “Perhaps you can ask them for a bed.”
Arthur slumped against the wall, weeping openly. The proud, arrogant patriarch of the Vance dynasty was reduced to a broken old man being escorted out of his own front door by federal agents while neighborhood cameras caught every agonizing second.
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Outside the gates, dozens of news vans and paparazzi were already waiting, flashing blinding lights as Arthur and Wendy Vance were led out onto the public sidewalk with nothing but small plastic bags containing their IDs.
The iron gates of the Vance manor swung shut behind them—this time, permanently locked with a Sterling crest mounted on the front.
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