Chapter 4 - The Locks Are Changed
By noon the following day, I was discharged from the hospital.
The autumn sun was cold and crisp over St. Paul as Sarah drove my car back to my apartment building on Grand Avenue—a beautiful, four-story brownstone building with historic brickwork, arched windows, and a private rooftop garden. I had bought the building’s top-floor loft six years ago, converting it into a masterpiece of modern architecture with exposed brick, soaring ceilings, and industrial steel beams.
It was my sanctuary. The place where I designed my greatest buildings, the place where I slept in peace before Jackson Vance brought his chaos into my life.
When we pulled up to the curb, I saw a large white van parked near the main entrance.
Two men in blue jumpsuits were kneeling near the iron front door, tools spread across the concrete. Beside them stood Marcus—the building’s tall, burly superintendent, who had known me since the day I moved in.
"Maya!" Marcus called out, rushing down the steps as soon as he saw me step out of the car, his face filled with deep concern as he saw the heavy bandage on my head. "Oh, God, Maya... I heard what happened on the morning news! Are you alright?"
"I’m alive, Marcus," I said, offering him a tired smile. "What’s going on with the front entrance?"
"Your mother-in-law showed up here at eight o'clock this morning with a locksmith," Marcus said, his jaw tightening with anger. "She claimed she had a signed master lease from Jackson and demanded I give her the master key to your loft. She brought two moving trucks full of her furniture!"
My blood ran cold. "Where is she now?"
"She’s sitting in her Mercedes in the alleyway," Marcus spat. "I told her to take her moving trucks and clear out or I’d call the precinct. I’m changing the main entry digital locks right now, and I’m recoding the elevator keycard access so no one can reach the fourth floor without your personal biometric authorization."
"Thank you, Marcus," I breathed, feeling a wave of intense relief wash over me. "Can you make sure the locksmith re-keys my private loft door as well?"
"Already done," Marcus said, holding up a small black electronic key fob. "New encrypted deadbolts installed twenty minutes ago. Here’s your new master fob. Only you and I have access."
I took the key fob, holding it tight in my hand.
I walked down the narrow brick side-alley toward the parking lot. Parked under the shadow of the fire escape was Genesis’s silver Mercedes sedan. Sitting in the passenger seat, tapping her manicured nails impatiently against the leather dashboard, was Genesis. Sitting in the driver’s seat was Jackson’s younger brother, Luke—the cousin who had quietly ushered the children out of the dining room the night before during the attack.
When Luke saw me approaching, he rolled down his window, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
"Maya..." Luke began, his voice hesitant. "Look... about last night... I didn't know Jackson was going to throw the plate—"
"Save it, Luke," I interrupted, walking straight up to Genesis’s window.
Genesis slowly rolled down the glass, staring at me through her dark sunglasses, her expression bitter and unyielding.
"You're wasting your gas, Genesis," I said, leaning down so my voice carried clearly into the quiet car. "You aren't getting into this building today. You aren't getting into this building tomorrow. And you will never, ever set foot inside my home again."
"Jackson posted bail twenty minutes ago, Maya," Genesis said, her voice dripping with triumphant malice. "The magistrate set it at fifty thousand dollars. Arthur paid it out of his personal retainer fund. Jackson is a free man."
"He’s a man on bail facing felony assault charges, Genesis," Sarah Chen interjected, stepping up beside me, holding a fresh legal document stamped by the Ramsey County District Court. "And as of 11:30 AM today, Judge Davis signed an Emergency Order for Protection."
Sarah slapped the folded paper directly against the Mercedes windshield, right under the wiper blade.
"That is a legal Restraining Order," Sarah declared loudly. "Jackson Vance is barred from coming within five hundred feet of Maya Lin, Grand Avenue, or Vanguard Urban Design. If he communicates with her via phone, text, email, or third party—including you, Mrs. Vance—his bail will be immediately revoked, and an arrest warrant will be issued for felony bail jumping."
Genesis looked at the official court document sitting on her windshield, her lips pressing into a thin, white line.
"You think you've won, don't you?" Genesis hissed, turning her head to glare at me. "You think you can alienate my son from his family, steal his project, and lock us out? We will tear your life apart, Maya. Arthur is filing for emergency divorce proceedings this afternoon. We are going to freeze your corporate accounts, claim fifty percent of Vanguard Urban Design as marital property, and leave you with nothing."
I looked at the woman who had sat calmly carving roast lamb while her son spilled my blood across her tablecloth.
"Try it, Genesis," I said, my voice dropping into a whisper that made Luke flinch behind the wheel. "Because while you were paying Jackson’s bail this morning, my forensic accountants were opening the vault on Vanguard’s books. And we found out exactly where Jackson was funneling the money he stole from my firm over the last eighteen months."
Genesis’s confident mask cracked. "What are you talking about?"
May you like
"I'm talking about the offshore shell accounts in Delaware, Genesis," I said softly. "The ones registered under your maiden name. See you in court."
Without waiting for her reply, I turned around and walked up the brownstone steps into my home, leaving Genesis Vance screaming curses into the cold autumn wind.
