Chapter 8 - The Swift Eviction
The storm outside raged on, violently throwing heavy sheets of rain against the tall bedroom windows.
Inside the bedroom, the atmosphere was entirely devoid of any warmth or lingering affection.
I pointed my finger firmly toward the large, custom-built walk-in closet across the room.
I gave Julian exactly fifteen minutes to gather his personal belongings and vacate my property permanently.
He stared at me in complete, utter disbelief, his jaw hanging foolishly open.
He aggressively argued that half of this massive estate legally belonged to him.
He proudly declared that his name was clearly written on the official property deed alongside mine.
I smiled a very thin, incredibly dangerous smile that made him instantly take a step back.
I calmly informed him that my brilliant corporate attorneys had been extremely busy over the past two years.
I revealed that the estate was actually legally owned by a private trust controlled entirely by my holding company.
I watched his arrogant eyes widen as the sheer magnitude of his absolute ruin finally registered in his brain.
He had blindly signed a stack of complex refinancing documents a year ago without ever bothering to read the fine print.
He had completely trusted his loving, supportive wife to handle all the complicated financial matters.
That absolute trust was the very weapon I had used to systematically secure my hard-earned empire.
Julian began to hyperventilate, pacing frantically back and forth across the damp carpet.
He frantically yelled at his mother to do something, to talk some sense into his crazy, vengeful wife.
Beatrice firmly pressed her lips together and aggressively looked away from her desperate son.
She knew exactly which side her expensive bread was buttered on, and it certainly was not Julian’s side.
Clara nervously checked her smartphone, pretending to be entirely absorbed in a sudden, fake emergency.
Mia sobbed loudly from the corner, suddenly realizing that her rich, powerful married man was actually completely broke.
I turned my cold attention to the crying, pathetic girl huddled in my stolen bathrobe.
I sharply ordered Mia to go to her room, pack her cheap duffel bag, and leave my house immediately.
I warned her that if she was not gone in ten minutes, I would personally have the police escort her off the premises for trespassing.
She let out a terrified squeal and sprinted out of the master bedroom as fast as her legs could carry her.
Julian stood completely alone, utterly abandoned by his greedy family and his young, foolish mistress.
He slowly walked into the dark closet and began to aggressively pull his designer suits off the wooden hangers.
I stood by the bedroom door, silently watching him pack his shattered, miserable life into a leather suitcase.
He paused near the door, his eyes filled with a toxic mixture of immense sorrow and burning anger.
He quietly told me that I was a cold, heartless monster who was going to die entirely alone.
May you like
I stared right back into his cowardly eyes without blinking a single time.
I softly replied that I would much rather be completely alone than be married to a pathetic, lying fraud.
