Chapter 4 - The Illusory Kingdom
Michael stormed out of the Crestwood building, his mind spinning. He had been fired in less than five minutes. The prestige, the six-figure salary, the corporate car—all gone. He desperately tried to call his mother, but his phone buzzed with an alert from his bank.
“Account Alert: Your joint account with Penelope Coleman has been closed due to suspected fraudulent activity and a pending legal hold.”
His blood ran cold. He tried to log into his personal checking account, only to find a balance of exactly $14.20. The rest of his money—which he had foolishly transferred to his mother’s account over the last year—was inaccessible because Hattie’s accounts had been flagged for a tax audit.
Desperate and furious, Michael drove his corporate sedan—which he had to return by 5:00 PM—back to the Heights District apartment. He burst through the door, shouting for his mother.
“Mom! We have a problem! Penelope did something. She got me fired, and the bank accounts are locked!”
Hattie was sitting on the plush velvet sofa, sipping a cup of expensive espresso. She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, please, Michael. Don’t let that little peasant scare you. She probably ran to some low-rate lawyer. She has no money. How can she afford to lock your accounts? It's just a system glitch.”
“No, Mom, Thomas Sterling himself showed me a video. He looked terrified of her!” Michael paced the floor, his hands sweating. “Where did she get the power to do that?”
“She’s a secretary, Michael! Or some paper-pusher!” Hattie scoffed, standing up. “We still have this apartment. This place is worth two million dollars. Since she left, we can claim abandonment. I’ve already called my real estate agent friend. He says if we stay here for thirty days, we can establish residency and force a partition sale.”
Just then, a loud, authoritative knock sounded at the door.
Michael rushed to open it, expecting Penelope to be standing there, ready to apologize. Instead, he was met by a burly man in a uniform, holding a stack of legal documents.
“Michael Coleman?” the man asked.
“Yes?”
“You, Hattie Coleman, and all other occupants are hereby served with an immediate Eviction Notice and a Foreclosure summons.” The man handed him the heavy envelope. “The owner of this property, Summit Trust LLC, has terminated your occupancy due to illegal subletting, property damage, and the presence of unauthorized residents. You have 72 hours to vacate the premises, or the county sheriff will remove you by force.”
Michael gasped. “Eviction? This is my wife’s apartment! She wouldn't evict me!”
The server smiled coldly. “Sir, I just serve the papers. But if I were you, I'd start packing. Summit Trust doesn't play games.”
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As the door slammed shut, Hattie grabbed the papers from Michael’s hand. Her eyes scanned the documents, her aristocratic facade finally cracking.
“Summit Trust...” she whispered, her voice trembling. “No... this can't be. Summit Trust is the primary creditor of my Sedona estate. They... they bought my mortgage last month!”
