Chapter 4 - The Shadow of the Past
Two men stepped into the apartment.
The first was short, muscular, wearing a grease-stained leather jacket, with a faded snake tattoo creeping up his neck. The second was taller, thin, carrying a heavy brass clip-board and a heavy ring of master keys.
Lila scrambled out of her bedroom, letting out a small shriek of terror, and ducked behind Evelyn’s wheelchair.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Evelyn demanded, her hand shaking as she shielded Lila. "Marcus! You can't just break into my home!"
The tall man with the keys—Marcus—was the building landlord. He didn't look at Evelyn. He looked at the shorter man in the leather jacket.
"This is the unit, Joey," Marcus said greasy. "Rent is three months behind. Tenant is non-responsive to eviction notices."
The man in the leather jacket—Joey—stepped into the living room, tossing a heavy yellow eviction notice onto the coffee table. He had cold, predatory eyes that swept over the small apartment before landing on Elliot, who was still seated at the kitchen table.
"You’ve got two hours to clear out, old lady," Joey said, ignoring Elliot entirely. "Property’s been sold. New owner wants the building cleared for demolition by Monday."
"Demolition?!" Evelyn gasped, her face turning pale as paper. "I have a legal lease through December! The rent was paid last week by the city housing assistance program!"
"Assistance check bounced," Joey sneered, taking a step toward Evelyn’s wheelchair. "Not my problem. Pack your junk or it goes into the dumpster on the street."
Lila was crying now, clutching her grandmother’s sweater. "Grandma... are we gonna be homeless?"
Elliot stood up.
He didn't yell. He didn't raise his hands. But the atmosphere in the small room shifted so violently that Joey stopped mid-stride.
Elliot stepped around the table, putting his tall frame directly between Joey and Evelyn’s wheelchair. The charcoal suit, the crisp posture, and the razor-sharp authority that had intimidated roomfuls of corporate executives was now directed entirely at the grease-stained man in the leather jacket.
"Who do you work for?" Elliot asked, his voice as cold as arctic ice.
Joey blinked, surprised by the commanding presence of the stranger. "Who the hell are you? Her lawyer?"
"I asked you a question," Elliot said softly, taking one step forward. Joey subconsciously took a step back. "Who owns this building?"
"Apex Real Estate Investments," Joey muttered, trying to regain his tough posture. "And they got a court order—"
"Apex Real Estate Investments is a shell company registered in Delaware," Elliot interrupted smoothly, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. "It is a subsidiary of Vance Development Group. Which means I own this building."
Joey’s jaw dropped. Marcus, the landlord, turned white as a sheet.
"M-Mr. Vance?" Marcus stammered, shuffling his papers frantically. "We... we didn't know you were visiting the site personally! The clearance order came from the regional operations office—"
"Effective immediately," Elliot said, dialing a number on his screen and placing the phone to his ear, "you are terminated, Marcus. Hand your keys to the gentleman standing behind you before I have the police department audit your books for illegal lockouts."
Marcus didn't argue. He dropped his master key ring onto the floor, turned on his heel, and sprinted down the hallway.
Joey looked at Elliot, then at the crying girl hiding behind the wheelchair, and slowly backed out the door, raising his hands in surrender. "Just following orders, boss. Just following orders."
Elliot slammed the door shut, locked it, and turned back to the room.
Lila was trembling, staring at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. Evelyn was breathing heavily, her hand pressed against her chest.
May you like
Elliot walked over, crouched beside Lila, and took her small hand in his.
"Nobody is putting you on the street, Lila," Elliot said softly, his voice echoing with absolute promise. "Not today. Not ever."
