Chapter 4 - The Eviction Party
While Marcus and Evelyn were assembling our legal guillotine, Trent was busy celebrating his supposed triumph. Thanks to Marcus's digital monitoring of the Paradise Valley property’s smart-home network, I had a front-row seat to his absolute arrogance.
By Saturday afternoon, moving vans had pulled up to my driveway, unloading white bouclé furniture, gilded mirrors, and dozens of designer shopping bags. Trent had hired a private catering crew to host an intimate 'housewarming and baby announcement' gathering on my back terrace.
Gloria arrived in a brand-new lavender pantsuit, walking with the sprightly step of an athlete rather than a dying cancer patient, greeting twenty of Trent's social-climbing friends who had abandoned me the second the rumors of divorce spread.
Through the security cameras installed in the living room, I watched Brooke lounge on the sofa I had imported from Milan, sipping sparkling cider while pointing at my antique artwork.
"That dreary oil painting has to go," Brooke’s nasal voice came through the audio feed clearly. "It completely clashes with the modern aesthetic I want for the nursery."
"Whatever you want, babe," Trent said, kissing her forehead before pouring himself a glass of vintage champagne from my private cellar. "Everything here belongs to us now. Harper will never fight back; she’s terrified of public embarrassment."
"Did the wire clear yet?" Gloria interrupted, popping a bacon-wrapped scallop into her mouth. "My decorator needs a ten-thousand-dollar deposit for the guest wing."
Trent frowned slightly, pulling his phone from his jacket. "It’s showing pending. The bank must be running their weekend security batch. Don't worry, Mom, Harper knows better than to cut off your treatments. I told her I’d drag her company name through the local papers if she played games."
"Good," Gloria sniffed. "That woman owes this family everything. Without your charm, Trent, she’d just be another lonely corporate drone."
I sat in my hotel room with Evelyn, watching the live footage on my laptop screen. Evelyn was finishing a bowl of fresh berries, reviewing the ink on an emergency writ of immediate possession issued by the Maricopa County Superior Court.
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"Sheriff’s deputies are staged two blocks away," Evelyn said, checking her watch. "The writ cites immediate criminal trespassing, commercial asset theft, and unlawful conversion of property."
"Let them finish their champagne toast, Evelyn," I said, a cold, satisfied smile touching my lips. "I want the whole neighborhood to see them in their Sunday best."
