Chapter 3 - The Uninvited Guests
When the private elevator doors slid open on the 54th floor, the sight inside my penthouse made my blood boil.
The floor-to-ceiling glass windows cast bright sunlight across the white Italian marble floors—floors that were currently being scuffed by dusty boots and moving boxes.
My mother, Eleanor, stood near the center island of the minimalist kitchen, holding a porcelain tea cup she had pulled from my custom cabinets. She looked older, her hair fully gray, but her posture still radiated that same self-righteous arrogance.
Cole was lounging on my velvet sofa, his boots propped up on a $45,000 handcrafted obsidian coffee table. Tessa was walking around the room, taking photos of the art pieces with her phone, gasping at the valuations listed on the insurance plaques.
"Oh, Cole, look at this view!" Tessa squealed. "We can turn the lower level into a nursery for the kids, and your parents can take the east wing!"
"The family building will work wonderfully for all of us," my mother said softly, taking a sip from my cup. She turned around and smiled warm and wide—a fake, predatory smile—when she saw me stepping out of the elevator.
"Evan! Darling!" Mom exclaimed, setting the cup down as if she hadn't ignored my existence for a decade. "You're finally here! We've been trying to reach you for days!"
Behind me, Vance Sterling—a six-foot-four corporate attorney who commanded $1,200 an hour—stepped out of the elevator, flanked by Security Chief Raymond and three uniformed security officers wearing tactical gear.
Cole slowly took his boots off the table, his eyes narrowing as he recognized me. He had gained weight, his hair was thinning, and his cheap suit looked like it had been bought off the rack at a department store clearance sale.
"What's with the stormtroopers, Evan?" Cole sneered, trying to maintain his tough-guy act. "Is this how you welcome your family home?"
"You have five seconds to explain how you bypassed my concierge," I said, my voice ice-cold.
Mom gasped, putting a hand over her chest. "Evan! Is that any way to speak to your mother? We heard through the grapevine how successful you’ve become. And after what happened to your father’s company..."
"Dad's company went bankrupt six months ago," Cole interrupted bitterly. "Thanks to economic downturns and bad contractors. We were forced to sell the family house."
"So you decided to break into mine?" I asked.
May you like
"Break in?!" Tessa barked, stepping forward defensively. "We didn't break in! Your mother went to the city clerk with the Mercer family trust documents! As Cole's wife, I have a right to family assets! The Mercer name belongs to all of us!"
"Ownership," I said, stepping into the living room, "isn't negotiable."
