Chapter 3 - The Lockout
Two days later, Evelyn was discharged from the hospital.
She did not leave in a standard taxi or Adrian’s mid-tier SUV. A convoy of three black, armored Range Rovers with tinted windows sat in the hospital's private ambulance bay.
Evelyn sat in the middle vehicle, holding Noah tightly against her chest, while her mother and two specialized pediatric nurses held Leo and Arthur. Her father sat in the front seat, his eyes fixed on a tablet displaying the real-time location of Adrian’s assets.
"Adrian and his mistress are currently at your estate in Lake Forest," Alistair reported, his voice calm. "They have invited a high-society interior designer to remodel the nursery into a walk-in closet for Celeste's handbag collection."
Evelyn felt a surge of cold fury, but she kept her voice level. "Let them enjoy the dream for ten more minutes."
The convoy drove through the exclusive gates of Lake Forest, pulling up to the long, winding driveway of the French-provincial mansion Evelyn had spent years decorating.
Outside the front door, a moving truck was parked, and several workers were carrying out boxes of Evelyn’s personal belongings—her books, her family photos, and her clothes—throwing them carelessly into the back of the truck.
Standing on the porch, wearing a designer silk robe, was Celeste Monroe. She was holding a clipboard, pointing and directing the movers with an arrogant wave of her hand.
The three Range Rovers came to a halt, their doors opening simultaneously.
Six security guards in black suits stepped out first, forming a protective perimeter around the middle vehicle. Then, Alistair Vance stepped out, opening the door for Evelyn.
Evelyn emerged, wearing a simple, elegant navy blue wool coat, her hair tied back in a neat, professional bun. She looked tired, but her posture was regal, her eyes locked onto Celeste.
Celeste’s smug smile faltered when she saw the security detail and the luxury vehicles. She walked down the steps, her clipboard held like a shield.
"What is the meaning of this?" Celeste demanded, trying to sound authoritative. "This is private property. Adrian and I have legal title to this house. You have no right to be here, Evelyn."
"I am Evelyn Vance Carter," Evelyn said, stepping forward, her voice echoing in the quiet, wealthy neighborhood. "And this is my father, Alistair Vance."
At the mention of the name Vance, the moving coordinator, an older man who had worked in Chicago high society for decades, went pale. He immediately dropped his clipboard and ordered his workers to stop.
"A-Alistair Vance?" the coordinator stammered. "Sir, we didn't know... we were hired by Mr. Vale—"
"You are trespassing on properties owned by Vance Holding Group," Alistair said, not even looking at the coordinator. "Take your trucks and your men and leave this property immediately. If you do not, my legal team will file a motion for complicity in grand theft by 12:00 PM."
"Yes, sir! Moving out immediately!" the coordinator yelled, scrambling to get his men back into the truck.
Celeste’s face turned a violent shade of red. "Adrian! Adrian, get down here! Evelyn brought her family’s old money to threaten us!"
The front door of the mansion flew open, and Adrian Vale stepped out, wearing a cashmere sweater and a gold watch. He looked angry, but when his eyes landed on Alistair Vance, a flicker of deep, primal fear crossed his face.
"Mr. Vance," Adrian said, trying to steady his voice as he walked down the steps. "Let's be professional. Evelyn and I are going through a standard divorce. I have the legal title to this house. It was signed over to Celeste’s LLC last week. It is a closed matter."
"A signed title deed is only valid if the signature is genuine, Adrian," Eleanor Vance said, stepping out of the Range Rover, holding a legal folder. "And since my daughter was under medical sedation in the ICU on the date of this alleged signature, we have already filed a federal injunction freezing all transactions related to this property."
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She handed a document to Adrian, who took it with a shaking hand.
"This is an eviction notice, Mr. Vale," Eleanor continued, her voice clipping like scissors. "You, your mistress, and your belongings have exactly thirty minutes to vacate this house. If you are still here at 12:30 PM, the Lake Forest Police Department will arrest you both for criminal trespassing and forgery."
