Chapter 4 - The Eviction Notice
When Noah and I returned home the following afternoon, the house felt entirely different. The soft afternoon light streaming through the living room windows didn't feel warm; it felt like an inspection.
Vanessa’s clothes, her expensive cosmetics, her designer shoes, and her countless shopping bags still occupied half the master bedroom suite and the walk-in closet. She apparently still believed this was a temporary argument—that I would cool down, apologize, and welcome her back like nothing happened.
She didn't know me at all.
I called my real estate attorney, Robert Vance, right after getting Noah settled into his own bed with his favorite picture books.
“Robert,” I said, leaning against my office desk. “I need an emergency eviction notice and a restraining order filed against Vanessa Sterling. She’s listed as an occupant under verbal agreement, but the house is solely in my name, purchased three years before we met.”
“Consider it done, Mark,” Robert replied smoothly. “And what about the corporate side of things? I heard whispers that her father is Arthur Sterling, the major stakeholder in your current software contract with Sterling Logistics.”
I paused. Arthur Sterling. For months, Vanessa had bragged about her father’s corporate empire, hinting that my software firm’s merger depended entirely on our upcoming marriage.
“Let her father call me,” I said coldly. “If his business relies on moral integrity, he’s going to find out very quickly what kind of daughter he raised.”
Just as I hung up the phone, the front doorbell rang. It wasn't a polite knock; it was an aggressive, rhythmic pounding that rattled the stained glass in the entryway.
May you like
I walked downstairs, unlocked the heavy wooden door, and pulled it open. Standing on the porch wasn't Vanessa, but a towering, silver-haired man in an expensive charcoal suit with eyes as cold as winter ice—Arthur Sterling himself.
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