Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4 — Eviction Notice
Beatrice began to sob uncontrollably,
sliding down onto her knees on the expensive Persian rug,
clutching the hem of my dress like a beggar.
"Maya,
please,
I am an old woman,
I cannot go to prison,
think of the family reputation!"
she wailed,
her voice completely stripped of all its former,
monogrammed arrogance.
I looked down at her,
my face an unreadable mask of cold,
uncompromising stone,
feeling absolutely no pity for the woman who had smiled at my bleeding face.
"You should have thought about your precious reputation before you encouraged your son to beat his wife,"
I said quietly,
pulling my dress out of her desperate grip.
"And as for this house,
this beautiful,
multi-million-dollar estate that you loved to brag about to your high-society friends..."
I paused,
pulling a thick,
notarized document from Jonathan Vance's briefcase,
tossing it directly onto the floor in front of her.
"This is an immediate,
non-negotiable eviction notice,"
I announced,
watching her eyes scan the legal text.
"As I mentioned before,
the deed to this entire property belongs exclusively to the Sterling Trust,
purchased entirely with my grandfather's money before I ever met Ethan."
"I merely allowed your family to live here under the illusion that Ethan was the provider,
to see just how far your greed would take you,"
I explained,
leaning forward.
"You have exactly thirty minutes to pack a single suitcase of your personal clothes,
and then my security team will throw you out onto the street."
Ethan screamed in pure,
unbridled rage,
struggling against the heavy grip of the federal agents as they dragged him toward the door.
"You tricked me,
you bitch!
You set me up from the very beginning!"
he yelled,
his face red,
veins bulging angrily in his neck.
"No,
Ethan,
you set yourself up the moment you mistook my quietness for weakness,"
I shouted back,
my voice ringing out with absolute power.
"I gave you three chances to be a good husband,
to stop your mother's cruelty,
but you chose violence instead,
and now you get to pay the price."
Arthur Sterling stepped forward,
his massive,
intimidating frame blocking Ethan's view of me entirely,
his voice dropping into a low,
deadly promise.
"If you ever look in my granddaughter's direction again,
if you even breathe her name in that prison cell,
I will make sure your life inside becomes a living hell,"
the old billionaire threatened,
his eyes burning with a lifetime of power.
The agents forcefully marched Ethan out of the house,
his pathetic screams fading away as the heavy front doors slammed shut,
leaving Beatrice sobbing alone on the floor.
The grand dining room was empty of their presence now,
the air finally clearing of the toxic smell of their unearned arrogance.
I turned to my grandfather,
letting out a long,
shaky breath,
May you like
and felt the heavy,
suffocating weight of the last three years finally melt away from my shoulders.
