Chapter 5 - The Eviction
While the board meeting was reaching its unanimous conclusion, a black armored transport van pulled up to the curb outside a luxury high-rise condominium in Lincoln Park.
The penthouse suite on the thirty-second floor belonged to Grant Mercer—or rather, it had belonged to him until the federal asset-freezing orders were processed at dawn.
Two armed bailiffs, accompanied by a locksmith and a Caldwell Meridian corporate representative, stepped out of the elevator on the thirty-second floor. The locksmith didn't bother ringing the doorbell. He immediately inserted a master drill into the deadbolt, grinding through the lock with a loud, abrasive screech that echoed down the carpeted hallway.
Inside the penthouse, Grant was sitting at the glass dining table, unshaven, his expensive suit wrinkled from a sleepless night, staring frantically at his laptop screen as error messages flashed across every browser tab.
The door burst open.
Grant jumped up from his chair, knocking his coffee cup over onto the hardwood floor, where dark liquid spilled across the planks.
“What the hell is this?!” Grant screamed, backing away as the bailiffs strode into the living room. “You can’t just break into my home! I have tenant rights! I’m a corporate officer!”
“Not anymore, Mr. Mercer,” the corporate representative said coldly, stepping into the room carrying a clipboard. “By order of the federal bankruptcy court and the Caldwell Meridian legal division, this property has been repossessed as asset recovery collateral. You have thirty minutes to gather your personal effects.”
Sloane stumbled out of the master bedroom, wearing the same wrinkled bathrobe from the hotel, her hair unbrushed and her face pale with panic.
“Where are we supposed to go?” Sloane cried, looking around the expansive living room as if seeing it for the first time. “They canceled my credit cards! My car was towed from the parking garage twenty minutes ago!”
Grant ignored her. He lunged toward the corporate representative, his face twisting in rage.
“Call Harrison!” Grant roared, grabbing the man by the lapels of his jacket. “Tell that old bastard that I know where every body is buried in this corporation! Tell him if he doesn't lift these freeze orders, I’ll burn the entire hospital network to the ground with media leaks!”
The two bailiffs didn't hesitate. They seized Grant by the arms, slamming him against the glass dining table with enough force to rattle the remaining silverware, before pinning his wrists behind his back and snapping a pair of steel handcuffs around his wrists.
“Assaulting a court-appointed officer,” the lead bailiff barked, “add that to the charges.”
“No! Let me go!” Grant yelled, thrashing wildly as they dragged him toward the open elevator doors. “Evelyn! EVELYN!”
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His desperate screams echoed down the hallway, bouncing off the pristine white walls of the luxury building where he had believed he was untouchable.
Sloane sank to her knees on the floor of the empty penthouse, burying her face in her hands as the heavy steel doors of the elevator closed, sealing their fate forever.
