Chapter 3 - The Eviction
The silence that fell over the penthouse was deafening.
Without the music, the sound of heavy footsteps echoing up the spiral staircase was unmistakable. Adrian’s guests, who only moments ago had been laughing and drinking my vintage champagne, were now muttering in confusion and outrage as they were ushered toward the private elevator.
"You can't do this," Adrian hissed, his shock finally twisting back into a desperate, feral rage. He took a step toward me, his fists clenching at his sides. "I'll sue you. I'll tie you up in court for the next ten years. I'll tell the press you're unstable, that you stole the funds—"
"With what money, Adrian?" I asked, not flinching as he approached. "You don't have enough cash in your personal accounts to pay your country club dues next month, let alone hire a white-shoe defense team. Every single asset you thought you owned is currently frozen under a litigation hold. You are bankrupt."
He stopped, his face contorting in a mask of pure, unadulterated hatred. He looked like he wanted to wrap his hands around my neck and squeeze.
But before he could make a move, the heavy oak doors of the master bedroom swung open.
Three men in dark, tailored suits stepped into the room, led by a tall, formidable woman with her gray hair pulled into a sleek bun. It was Evelyn Vance, my aunt and the managing partner of Vance Corporate Law. Behind them stood two imposing private security officers.
"That's close enough, Adrian," Evelyn said, her voice like a steel trap snapping shut. She didn't even look at Vanessa, treating her like a piece of cheap furniture. "If you take one more step toward my niece, my security team will exercise their right to use non-lethal force to protect a high-risk pregnant woman from an active domestic threat."
Adrian spun around, his jaw working as he tried to find his footing. "Evelyn. This is a domestic dispute. You have no right to interfere—"
"Actually, Adrian, as the court-appointed conservator of the Vance Trust and the primary legal counsel for Valkyrie Holdings, I have every right," Evelyn replied smoothly. She tapped a thick manila folder in her hand. "I have here a restraining order, signed by a judge twenty minutes ago, barring you from coming within five hundred feet of Mara, her children, and any property owned by the Vance estate or its subsidiaries. Which includes this building."
She gestured to the two security guards. "Gentlemen, please escort Mr. Vance and his... guest off the premises immediately."
"No!" Vanessa shrieked, finally panicking. "My clothes! My bags! They're in the guest room!"
"Any personal items left behind will be inventoried and shipped to a designated address once Mr. Vance provides one," Evelyn said coldly. "But as of right now, you are trespassing."
"Adrian!" Vanessa cried, grabbing his arm. "Do something!"
Adrian looked at me, his eyes burning with a desperate, pathetic pleading that made me want to sick. "Mara... please. Think about the babies. They need a father. They need a stable home. We can work this out. I'll change. I'll break it off with Vanessa. Just... don't do this to me. Don't ruin me."
I looked at him, my expression completely blank.
"You did this to yourself, Adrian. You took my kindness for weakness, and my silence for surrender." I turned my back on him, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the glittering skyline of Manhattan. "Get him out of my sight."
"Mara! Mara, you bitch!" Adrian screamed as the security guards stepped forward, grabbing his arms and twisting them behind his back. "You think you've won? I'll destroy you! I'll make sure everyone knows what you did!"
His threats faded into desperate grunts as the guards dragged him out of the room, Vanessa sobbing hysterically behind him.
The heavy doors clicked shut, and finally, the penthouse was silent.
The moment they were gone, the strength left my legs. I collapsed onto the edge of the bed, a sharp gasp escaping my lips as a brutal, agonizing cramp ripped through my lower abdomen.
"Mara!" Evelyn dropped her folder and rushed to my side, her cold professional exterior instantly evaporating. "Oh, sweetie. You're bleeding."
I looked down. A dark stain was blooming across the front of my white silk nightgown.
"The twins..." I whispered, my voice finally cracking as the terror I had kept locked away came rushing to the surface. "Evelyn, call the ambulance. Please. They can't die. Not after everything."
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"I'm calling them now," Evelyn said, her hands shaking as she dialed. "Stay still, Mara. Just breathe. You're safe now. He can't hurt you anymore."
I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, clutching my stomach as the world began to blur at the edges. Please, I prayed to whatever forces were listening. Take everything else. Take the money, the firm, the house. Just let my babies live.
