Chapter 2 - The Eviction
Santiago lunged toward the front door, pulling it open in a fit of rage. "What is the meaning of this?!" he roared at the officers standing on the porch. "Who the hell called you to my property?!"
Officer Ramirez, a tall woman with a stern face and a hand resting casually near her belt, stepped forward. "Are you Santiago Vance?"
"Yes, I am! And this is my estate! I demand to know why you are trespassing on private—"
"Mr. Vance," Officer Ramirez interrupted loudly, stepping right past him into the foyer while her partner followed. "We are here to execute an Emergency Temporary Restraining Order and an immediate Order of Eviction issued by the Superior Court of the State."
"Eviction?!" Santiago shouted, his voice cracking. "Are you out of your mind?! I live here! I am married to her!" He pointed a shaking, furious finger back at me as I stood calmly near the kitchen island. "She’s my wife! This is my marital home!"
Samantha Duncan stepped inside, holding a sleek leather folder. She didn't offer a smile. "Actually, Santiago, it isn't. The property located at 1400 Pinecrest Ridge was purchased outright by Chloe Bennett eight years ago, three years prior to your marriage. Furthermore, Clause 14 of your signed Prenuptial Agreement explicitly stipulates that you retain zero equity, occupancy rights, or residential claims to any pre-marital real estate owned by Ms. Bennett in the event of separation or domestic disturbance."
"Prenup?!" Santiago scoffed, his face flushing crimson. "That agreement was just a formality for her father! It’s invalid! We’ve been married for six years! I’ve paid utility bills here!"
"Paying a water bill does not grant you ownership of a ten-million-dollar estate, Mr. Vance," Samantha replied coolly. "Furthermore, my client has filed formal criminal charges against you for misdemeanor battery and domestic assault."
Santiago’s eyes went wide. "Assault?! She’s lying! She fell down the stairs!"
"We have high-definition audio and video footage from the interior security camera in the main hallway, Santiago," I spoke up, stepping into the foyer. "The footage clearly shows you striking me across the face, shoving me into the drywall, and threatening me while your mother yelled outside."
Santiago looked like he had been struck by lightning. His jaw worked silently, his mind racing to find an exit, a lie, a leverage point—anything to regain control. "You... you had a camera in the hall?"
"My father installed the system when the house was built," I said, my tone ice-cold. "You were just too arrogant to notice the sensors."
Officer Ramirez drew a pair of handcuffs from her belt. "Mr. Vance, you have fifteen minutes to collect your essential personal items—wallet, keys, phone, and medications—under our supervision. You are not to touch Ms. Bennett, nor are you to enter any rooms other than the master bedroom to grab basic attire. Everything else will be handled through legal counsel."
"You can't do this to me!" Santiago shrieked, his composure completely shattering. "Chloe! Talk to me! You’re destroying our marriage over a simple misunderstanding! My mother is on her way here right now!"
"Then you’d better go greet her at the gate," I replied, crossing my arms. "Because neither of you is stepping foot inside my home ever again."
"You bitch!" Santiago screamed, making a sudden step toward me.
In a split second, both police officers grabbed his arms, shoving him face-first against the entryway wall. The metallic click of the handcuffs rang through the grand foyer—a sound far sweeter than the crack of his hand against my face the night before.
"Santiago Vance, you are under arrest for domestic battery and resisting law enforcement," Officer Ramirez announced, reading him his rights while he thrashed and cursed.
Just as the officers pulled a disheveled, weeping, and furious Santiago out the front door, a shiny white SUV pulled dramatically up the circular driveway. The car screeched to a halt right on top of one of Santiago’s silk ties.
The door flew open, and Nancy stepped out, wearing a plush fur coat and oversized sunglasses. She took one look at her son in handcuffs, and then at his clothes scattered all over the snowy lawn like trash.
"Santiago!" Nancy screamed, dropping her handbag in the slush. "What is happening?! What did that ungrateful barren snake do to you?!"
She charged toward the porch like a rabid animal, her fingers clawing at the air. "Chloe! You crazy, psycho woman! Unhand my son this instant! I will have you ruined! I will take everything you own!"
Officer Ramirez’s partner stepped down from the porch, blocking Nancy’s path with an arm outstretched. "Ma'am, step back immediately! This is an active police scene and a private residence. If you cross the perimeter, you will be arrested for criminal trespassing and obstruction!"
"Private residence?!" Nancy shrieked, her voice echoing across the quiet neighborhood. "This is my son’s house! He owns this place! He lets her live here out of charity!"
"Actually, Mrs. Vance," Samantha Duncan said, walking down the steps with a smug, razor-sharp smile. "Your son owns nothing here. Not the house, not the land, not even the suits currently soaking in the snow. And if you don't clear your vehicle from this driveway within three minutes, I will have the police impound it for trespassing."
Nancy looked from Samantha, to the police officers, to Santiago who was being shoved into the back of a police cruiser, and finally up at me.
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I was standing at the grand double doors, looking down at her. For six years, this woman had berated me, insulted my family, demeaned my inability to conceive during our early years, and treated me like a servant in my own sanctuary.
I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I simply lifted my hand, waved slowly at her with a icy smile, and pulled the massive mahogany doors shut, turning the deadbolt with a loud, final click.
