Chapter 3 - The Eviction
"What the hell is going on here?!" Wade’s voice boomed from the kitchen as he marched into the foyer.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw two six-foot-four security guards in tactical vests step into his living room, positioning themselves by the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Roberta hurried out behind him, her face twisting in outrage. "Who are these thugs?! Ivy, what have you done?! Have you called a street gang into my son's home?!"
Uncle Arthur didn't even look at Roberta. He walked straight up to Wade, pulled a thick leather folder from his arm, and unclipped a montblanc pen.
"Wade Miller," Arthur said, his voice echoing off the soaring sixteen-foot ceilings. "My name is Arthur Vance. I am the senior partner of Vance, Sterling & Croft, and chief legal representative of the Vance Family Trust."
Wade blinked, his arrogant composure cracking around the edges. "Vance? I... I know who you are. You're Ivy's uncle. But what is this? This is my private residence!"
"Your private residence?" Arthur let out a dry, chilling laugh. He opened the folder and pulled out a certified copy of the property deed, holding it two inches from Wade’s nose.
"Read the top line, Mr. Miller," Arthur commanded. "Property Owner: Ivy Eleanor Vance. Sole Proprietor. Purchased March 14, 2024. Zero liens. Zero co-owners. Zero spousal rights under the prenuptial agreement you signed four weeks before your wedding."
Roberta let out a sharp, hysterical gasp. "What?! That's a lie! Wade told me his name was on the deed! He told me he bought this place with his quarterly bonuses!"
Wade’s face went completely red, then gray, then white. He looked at his mother, unable to meet her eyes.
"Wade..." Roberta stammered, her hands flying to her mouth. "Wade, tell me she's lying! Tell me this is your house!"
"He can't tell you that, Mrs. Miller," Arthur interjected smoothly, pulling a second document from the folder. "Because if he lies in front of these witnesses, I will have him arrested for fraud right now. Furthermore, here is the official revocation of guest privileges for Roberta Miller, effective sixty seconds ago."
"Guest privileges?!" Roberta shrieked. "I am his mother! I am the grandmother of that baby!"
"And you are currently a criminal trespasser on private property," Arthur replied coldly. He turned to the two security officers. "Officers, please escort Mrs. Miller to the elevator. If she resists, call the Chicago Police Department and file a complaint for criminal trespass and assault on a post-operative patient."
One of the security guards stepped forward, his heavy hand resting firmly on his belt. "Ma'am. Walk to the elevator, or we will remove you."
"Wade! Do something!" Roberta screamed, her voice cracking as she backed away in terror. "Tell them! You're the man of this house!"
Wade stood frozen, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The grand, traditional provider persona he had built in front of his mother was disintegrating into dust before his very eyes.
"I... I can't, Mom," Wade choked out, his voice barely a whisper.
"You coward!" Roberta yelled, tears of anger and humiliation streaming down her face as the security guard gently but firmly guided her by the elbow toward the private elevator. "You lied to me! You let me think you were a millionaire!"
The elevator doors opened. Roberta was shoved inside, her furious screaming cut off instantly as the steel doors slid shut.
Silence returned to the penthouse.
Wade stood alone in the middle of the foyer, looking at me as if he were seeing a complete stranger.
Dr. Rostova stepped forward, taking my arm gently. "Ivy, sit down on the sofa right now. Let me examine that incision."
I sat down on the velvet sofa while Dr. Rostova unfastened my robe, inspecting the soaked bandage.
"My God, Ivy," Dr. Rostova gasped, her face darkening as she looked at the red, inflamed skin around my stitches. "This wound was drenched in dirty tap water. It’s severely inflamed. If we hadn't treated this today, you would have been in emergency surgery for sepsis by tonight."
Arthur listened to the doctor's words, his jaw clenching so tight a muscle twitched in his cheek.
He turned slowly toward Wade.
"Wade Miller," Arthur said, his tone dropping into a terrifying whisper. "You stood by while your mother inflicted physical trauma on a woman recovering from major surgery. You committed domestic abuse, medical neglect, and reckless endangerment of a minor."
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"It... it was just water!" Wade stammered, backing away toward the kitchen island. "It was an argument! Couples have arguments, Arthur! You can't throw me out over a household disagreement!"
"I am not just throwing you out, Wade," I said, standing up with Dr. Rostova’s support, looking my husband straight in the eye. "I am divorcing you. I am filing for full legal and physical custody of Leo. And I am seizing every single asset you thought you owned."
