Chapter 8 - The Eviction of GreenwichBy midnight, the storm had shifted from The Plaza Hotel to the exclusive, gated enclave of Greenwich, Connecticut.
Rain drizzled over the sweeping stone driveway of the twenty-thousand-square-foot estate that Caldwell had claimed for years as his personal triumph. Three flatbed tow trucks were already idling near the grand fountain, winching the Maybach and the Cullinan onto their beds under the glaring work lights of private security teams.
Inside the grand foyer, total chaos reigned.
Evelyn was hysterically screaming at four estate staff members who were quietly packing my personal art collection into climate-controlled wooden crates.
"Stop touching those! This is my son's house! I will have you all arrested!" Evelyn shrieked, clutching a fur coat around her shoulders.
"Actually, Evelyn, this house belongs to the Montgomery Heritage Trust," I said, stepping through the double oak doors. Thaddius walked behind me, flanked by two uniformed estate guards.
Evelyn spun around, her eyes bloodshot, her hair disheveled. "You snake! You deceptive, ungrateful little bitch! You set us up!"
"I didn't set you up, Evelyn," I said calmly, stepping over the Persian rug. "I gave you ten years to treat me with basic human decency. I gave Caldwell ten years to be a real partner. You mistook my patience for weakness, and my silence for ignorance."
Caldwell stumbled through the front door, soaking wet from the rain. He had been forced to take a rideshare from Manhattan after his corporate cards were declined and his vehicles were seized at the hotel. His tuxedo jacket was gone, his tie loosened, his eyes wild with desperation.
"Saraphina... please," Caldwell begged, dropping to his knees on the marble floor of the foyer, uncaring of his wet clothes. "Please, just talk to me in private. We can fix this. I'll cut Sloan off completely. I'll fire her, I'll sue her, I'll do whatever you want! Just don't destroy everything we built!"
"We didn't build anything, Caldwell," I said, looking down at him without a shred of emotion. "I built an empire, and I allowed you to stand at the bow and pretend you were steering it. But you decided to throw the captain overboard."
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Thaddius handed Caldwell a formal legal notice.
"This is an emergency eviction order issued by the Stamford Superior Court," Thaddius stated. "You and your mother have sixty minutes to collect your personal clothing and vacate the premises. All jewelry, artwork, and luxury goods purchased using Vance Global corporate accounts remain under asset lock pending forensic audit."
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