Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3 — The Default Notice
They didn't leave quietly.
There was screaming. There were threats.
My father demanded a percentage, citing some imaginary legal precedent about "gifts."
Vivien called me a selfish, ungrateful bitch.
My mother simply wept, playing the victim, wondering where she went wrong raising such a cold daughter.
I didn't raise my voice.
I just picked up my phone and dialed 9-1-1.
"Hello, yes, I have three intruders refusing to leave my property," I said calmly.
They scrambled out the door before the dispatcher even asked for my address.
I locked the deadbolt and poured myself a glass of cheap wine.
It tasted better than any vintage they had served at Thanksgiving.
The next morning, at exactly 10:00 AM, the trap snapped shut.
I was sitting in Harrison’s office, sipping black coffee, when his phone chimed.
He checked the screen and smiled.
"The courier just confirmed delivery," Harrison announced.
"Marcus has been served."
I imagined the scene.
Marcus, sitting in his corner office, wearing a bespoke suit, bragging about his upcoming Caribbean cruise.
A courier walks in. Hands him a thick, legal envelope.
He opens it, expecting a contract.
Instead, he finds a Notice of Default.
Immediate payment required in full. One hundred and eighty thousand dollars.
Plus interest. Plus legal fees.
Or the collateral is seized.
I checked my phone.
It didn't take long.
Ten minutes later, Vivien’s name flashed on my screen.
I answered on the third ring.
"Hello, Vivien."
"Audrey!" she was hyperventilating. "Audrey, you have to help us! Please!"
The arrogance from yesterday was completely gone.
Replaced by sheer, unadulterated terror.
"Help you with what?" I asked innocently, inspecting my fingernails.
"Marcus... Marcus made a bad investment," Vivien sobbed.
"The bank just called his loan! They sold it to some private equity firm! They want the money today!"
"That sounds like a personal problem," I said.
"Audrey, you don't understand!" she shrieked. "He used Grandma's house as collateral! Dad co-signed it!"
"If we don't pay, they're going to take her house! Dad will be ruined!"
"They'll garnish Marcus's wages! He'll lose his partnership!"
I let her cry for a solid minute.
It was the most beautiful music I had ever heard.
"Where is Marcus now?" I asked.
"He's driving to Dad's house," she sniffled. "They're trying to figure out what to do. They're panicking."
"Good," I said.
"Audrey, please! You have a hundred million dollars!"
"You could pay this off and not even notice it's gone!"
"You owe this to the family!"
"I owe this family nothing," I replied, my voice hard.
"But I will come over."
"Tell Marcus and Dad I want a family meeting. Tonight. 7:00 PM."
"And tell them to have the loan documents on the dining room table."
I hung up before she could say thank you.
I didn't want her gratitude.
I wanted her destruction.
I spent the afternoon at a luxury car dealership.
I bought a matte black Range Rover. Paid in cash.
I drove it straight to a high-end boutique and bought a tailored suit that cost more than my first car.
I wasn't just going to crush them.
I was going to make sure they knew exactly who was doing it.
At 6:55 PM, I pulled up to my parents' manicured driveway.
The house looked the same. The perfect, suburban lie.
I walked up to the heavy oak door and didn't knock.
I just walked in.
The atmosphere in the house was suffocating.
It smelled like fear and stale coffee.
They were all sitting around the same dining room table where they had humiliated me less than a week ago.
Marcus looked like he had aged ten years. His tie was loosened, his hair a mess.
My father was pacing, his face pale, muttering under his breath.
My mother was wiping her eyes with a tissue.
When I walked into the dining room, they all stopped.
They stared at my clothes. My demeanor.
I wasn't the quiet girl anymore.
I was the executioner.
"Sit down," I told my father.
He blinked, taken aback by my tone, but he slowly sank into his chair.
"Audrey," Marcus started, his voice cracking. "Thank God you're here. We need a bridge loan."
"Just a temporary injection of capital. I can pay you back with interest."
"Shut up, Marcus," I said.
The room fell dead silent.
"Where are the documents?" I demanded.
My father slid a thick folder across the mahogany table.
I didn't open it. I knew exactly what was inside.
"You forged my grandmother's signature," I said, looking directly at Marcus.
"No!" Marcus lied instinctively. "She signed it willingly! It was an investment!"
"She has dementia, you parasite," I snapped.
"You dragged a confused old woman into a room and made her sign away her home so you could cover your bad stock trades."
"And you," I turned my furious gaze to my father.
"You co-signed it. You sold out your own mother to protect your golden boy."
My father looked at the floor. He couldn't meet my eyes.
May you like
"We were going to pay it back," my father mumbled weakly.
"Before or after the Caribbean cruise?" I asked.
