Chapter 5 - The eviction Notice
At 8:00 AM on Monday morning, forty-eight hours after the wedding, a flatbed tow truck and two black security SUVs pulled up in front of the luxury high-rise condominium complex on Michigan Avenue.
I sat in the back of my town car, watching through the tinted glass as Marco’s private security team and my corporate logistics manager, Frank, entered the building lobby with a master key fob and a court-ordered eviction notice.
Ten minutes later, the elevator doors in the lobby opened, and Harrison emerged.
He looked terrible. His expensive suit was wrinkled, his hair was unwashed, and dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes. Behind him walked Chloe, wearing oversized sunglasses and a hood pulled low over her face to hide her swollen, red eyes.
Harrison was arguing furiously with Frank, gesturing wildly toward the street.
"You can't do this!" Harrison shouted, his voice echoing into the quiet morning air. "My clothes are in there! My laptop! My watches!"
"Your personal clothing has been packed into four suitcases, Mr. Gallagher," Frank replied calmly, holding up a clipboard. "They are currently sitting on the curb. Your laptop, your company-issued phone, and your luxury watch collection were purchased using corporate expense accounts and have been impounded pending a forensic audit."
"My watches?!" Chloe shrieked, stepping forward. "Those were wedding gifts!"
"They were bought with Gallagher Development funds two weeks ago, Mrs. Gallagher," Frank corrected her without flinching. "Until the audit is complete, all assets purchased via company accounts are frozen."
Two building attendants walked out to the curb, setting down four black leather suitcases. Moments later, a valet drove Harrison’s black 2025 Porsche Cayenne onto the driveway, parked it, and handed the keys directly to Frank.
"Hey! That's my car!" Harrison yelled, reaching for the keys.
Frank stepped back, allowing two burly security guards to block Harrison’s path. "The vehicle title is registered under Gallagher Development Corp. The lease has been terminated."
Harrison turned around in circles, his hands clutching his head in sheer disbelief. He looked at the four suitcases sitting on the pavement. He looked at the luxury building where he had lived for five years, now barred to him. He looked at the Porsche being loaded onto the flatbed tow truck.
And then he saw my black town car parked across the street.
Harrison froze. He stared through the tinted glass, knowing I was sitting inside.
He ran across the four-lane street, ignoring the honking horns of morning traffic, and pounded his fists franticly against my rear window.
"Dad! Dad, open the door!" Harrison screamed, his face pressed against the glass. "Dad, please! Talk to me! You're ruining my life!"
I rolled the window down two inches—just enough for my voice to carry through the cold morning air.
"I didn't ruin your life, Harrison," I said softly, looking him dead in the eye. "You traded your mother's dignity for a cheap laugh and a viral video. Now you get to live with the price."
"Dad, I'm sorry!" Harrison wept, tears streaming down his pale cheeks. "I'll apologize to Mom! I'll go on my knees! Just please... don't do this to me!"
"You're not sorry you hurt your mother, Harrison," I said, rolling the window back up. "You're only sorry that the glue stuck to the wrong chair."
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I tapped the driver's shoulder. "Drive, Michael."
The town car pulled smoothly away from the curb, leaving Harrison standing in the middle of Michigan Avenue, shouting into the wind while Chloe stood beside four suitcases on the pavement, screaming at him to do something.
