Chapter 4 - Nine O'Clock SharpI didn't sleep in the master bed that night. I stayed up working, reviewing estate titles, vehicle registration papers, and banking permissions.
Downstairs, I could hear the muffled sounds of Nicole and Diane whispering in the kitchen, followed by the clinking of wine glasses. They thought they had won. They thought the slap had put me in my place. They believed that when Daniel returned from his business trip in New York on Monday, he would smooth everything over as he always did.
They had no idea that Daniel’s opinion no longer mattered to me.
At 8:55 AM the next morning, I stood by the second-floor floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the front iron gates of the estate. The morning air was grey and chilly, heavy with the promise of autumn rain.
At 8:57 AM, three jet-black suburban SUVs turned onto the long private driveway, their tires crunching over the gravel. They pulled up to the security gate, which automatically opened using the override code I had issued to Arthur Vance an hour prior.
The vehicles rolled to a stop in the circular driveway.
At 9:00 AM sharp, the doors opened. Six men in tailored dark suits, carrying black leather folders and digital tablets, stepped out in perfect, synchronized precision. Two uniform security guards followed behind them, carrying heavy-duty storage crates.
I walked downstairs just as the front door chimes rang.
Nicole was coming down the hallway in her silk pajamas, holding a mug of coffee. Diane was right behind her, her hair still in rollers.
“Who the hell is driving on the driveway at nine in the morning?!” Diane yelled toward the foyer.
Before she could reach the handle, the door clicked and swung open. Arthur Vance stepped across the threshold, flanked by two of his tactical security managers.
Nicole froze, stopping dead in her tracks. “What is this? Who are you people?”
Arthur didn't answer her. He opened the first black leather folder in his hand, his eyes scanning the document with cold, professional detachment.
“Nicole Bennett?” Arthur read out loud.
“It’s Nicole Miller,” she snapped, clutching her robe around herself. “And who gave you permission to walk into my house?!”
“This property is solely owned by Lauren Bennett,” Arthur stated, his voice ringing clearly across the foyer. “You have twenty minutes to collect your personal clothing and essential items. Security personnel will oversee your packing to ensure no estate property is removed.”
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Diane rushed forward, her face turning pale with rage. “You can't throw us out of our own house! My son lives here! My son is married to her! Call the police! I’m calling the police right now!”
“You are welcome to call the authorities, Mrs. Miller,” Arthur said smoothly, handing a thick sheaf of legal papers directly to Diane. “This is a formal Notice of Immediate Eviction and Revocation of Guest Privileges, backed by an emergency ex-parte trespass order signed by a Cook County magistrate at 7:00 AM today. If you remain on the premises after 0920 hours, you will be arrested for criminal trespass.”
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