Chapter 4 - The EvictionThe party died a swift, brutal death. Within fifteen minutes, every single guest had fled the mansion, leaving behind half-eaten plates of gourmet food and half-empty glasses of wine. Julian had left without saying a single word to Prudence, ignoring her hysterical cries as she chased him to his luxury sports car.
Now, the grand ballroom was empty, save for the wreckage of the night and the broken remnants of my biological family.
Gertrude sat on a velvet sofa, her head in her hands, while Prudence paced back and forth, sobbing uncontrollably. I stood by the door, arms crossed, watching them with detached coldness. Sarah and Jamie were upstairs in the master suite. I had personally carried my son up the grand staircase, drawn a hot bath for him, and ordered a massive spread of fresh, hot food from a 24-hour premium delivery service. For the first time in five years, my family was resting in luxury, while the parasites who had tormented them were about to face reality.
"How could you do this to us, David?" Gertrude finally spoke, lifting her head. There were no tears in her eyes, only bitter, burning resentment. "You humiliated us in front of the entire town! Prudence’s engagement is ruined! Our reputation is destroyed!"
"Your reputation?" I laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "You starved my son, Gertrude. You kept my wife like a dog in a kennel. You think I care about your reputation?"
"She is a low-class, worthless girl!" Gertrude snapped, her true colors finally bursting through her elegant facade. "She didn't deserve this house! She didn't deserve your money! We are your blood, David! We raised you! You owed us this life! Sarah should have been grateful we even let her stay on the property!"
"The property," I repeated softly. "That’s an interesting choice of words, Mother. Because we need to talk about who actually owns this property."
I walked over to the glass coffee table and tossed a thick stack of legal documents onto it. The heavy thud echoed in the quiet room.
Prudence stopped pacing, staring at the papers. "What is that?"
"Five years ago, before I left, I bought this land. Because I didn't have a credit history yet, I allowed the deed to be put under a family trust," I explained, leaning over the table. "A trust where I am the primary trustee, and you two were listed as temporary residents. The mortgage, the down payment, the property taxes—every single dime was paid from my overseas account."
Gertrude scoffed. "You can't throw us out. I am your mother. The law protects tenants!"
"The law protects tenants who pay rent or have a valid lease," I countered, pulling out a second document. "This is a revocation of residency. Because you violated the terms of the family trust by committing systemic financial fraud and criminal neglect of a minor on the premises, the trust is dissolved. As of this exact moment, you are trespassers in my house."
Gertrude stood up, her chest heaving. "You wouldn't dare. Where are we supposed to go?"
"I don't care," I said flatly. "You can sleep on the concrete floor behind the house. I hear the sour rice is lovely this time of year."
"David, please!" Prudence threw herself at my feet, grabbing my jeans. "I have nowhere to go! Julian is going to break off the engagement permanently if I'm evicted! I'll be a laughingstock!"
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"You should have thought about that before you told my son he could eat the scraps if there was anything left," I said, kicking her hands away from my boots without a shred of pity. "You have until sunrise to pack your clothes. Anything else—any jewelry, any bags, any furniture paid for with my $1,800 a month—stays in this house. If I see you touching so much as a silver spoon, I will have the police waiting at the gates to arrest you for grand theft."
I turned my back on their screams and wails, walking up the grand staircase toward the master bedroom. With every step I took away from them, the air in the house felt lighter, cleaner. The purge had begun.
