Chapter 5 - The Eviction
Two days later, Tucker stood on the front steps of his prized commercial warehouse downtown, watching a team of federal marshals and court-appointed bailiffs slap bright orange seizure notices across the front glass doors.
“You can’t do this!” Tucker shouted, shoving his way past a bailiff, his hair disheveled, his suit jacket wrinkled from sleeping on the sofa. “I have a ten-year lease on this building! I’m a principal partner!”
A tall man in a dark tailored suit stepped out of the building, holding a clipboard. It wasn't a bailiff. It was Arthur Vance, accompanied by two local police officers.
“You were a borrower, Mr. Sterling,” Arthur corrected smoothly, handing him a fresh set of legal papers. “And as of 8:00 AM this morning, Apex Capital has officially called in your commercial loans due to fraudulent asset manipulation and breach of contract.”
Tucker stared at the paper, his hands shaking so violently he dropped it onto the wet concrete. “No... no, this is impossible. Lydia doesn't have that kind of power. She’s just a...”
“She’s the majority controlling owner of the lending institution that financed your entire portfolio,” a cool, calm voice interrupted from behind him.
Tucker whipped around.
My black Mercedes had pulled up quietly to the curb. The tinted window rolled down slowly, revealing my face—still partially shadowed by my dark sunglasses and the high collar of my coat, but my eyes were entirely unyielding.
“Lydia!” Tucker cried out, stumbling toward the car like a drowning man grasping at a straw. He threw himself against the passenger window, slamming his palm against the glass. “Lydia, please! Drop the charges! Call off your lawyers! We can talk about this! We can go home, counseling, whatever you want—just please don't take the buildings!”
I looked down at him through the glass. The man who had sat across the breakfast table three days ago, sipping coffee while his sister laughed as scalding liquid burned my skin, was entirely gone. In his place was a desperate, ruined stranger begging for mercy from the woman he thought he had completely crushed.
“You told me to obey, Tucker,” I said softly, my voice carrying clearly through the cracked window. “Or leave.”
“I was angry!” he sobbed, sliding down the side of the car until his knees hit the pavement. “I didn't mean it!”
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“I heard you crystal clear,” I replied.
I signaled my driver to pull away. As the Mercedes glided smoothly down the wet asphalt, I glanced in the rearview mirror one last time. Tucker was still kneeling on the concrete outside the locked doors of his empire, screaming my name into the empty air, completely shattered by the realization of what he had destroyed.
