Chapter 6 - Sovereign Evictions
"Julian!" Chloe’s scream split the morning air like a siren.
She had run out onto the portico, bare-legged in her slippers, her face pale, her hair flying wild in the breeze. Two men in black uniforms were already standing at the front door, one of them holding a battery-operated power drill and a set of heavy steel lock cores.
"They're drilling out the locks!" she shrieked, grabbing Julian’s arm, digging her manicured nails into his skin. "Do something, Julian! Call someone! Call the governor! Call your friends at the club!"
"Arthur, stop this right now!" Julian roared, charging toward the steps.
Before he could reach the portico, two massive private security operators stepped into his path, their arms crossed, their expressions completely immobile behind dark sunglasses.
"Step back, Mr. Vance," the taller operator said, his voice a low, gravelly baritone. "Do not approach the residence while the locksmith is securing the perimeter."
"This is my home!" Julian choked, his face turning an ugly, desperate shade of crimson. "All my clothes are in there! Chloe’s jewelry! Our art!"
"You will be given precisely forty-five minutes to pack three suitcases each," Arthur said, checking his watch with excruciating slowness. "Sheriff’s deputies will escort you inside to observe. Anything you cannot fit into those suitcases will be inventoried by an independent third-party logistics firm, crated, and placed into bonded storage in Vernon. You may recover those items upon settlement of the three-point-eight-million-dollar distress lien Vance Holdings has filed against Apex Meridian."
"Three point eight million?!" Julian gasped, his knees visibly shaking. "What distress lien?!"
"Your company’s debts, Julian," Arthur explained patiently. "The corporate lines you drew, the payroll advances you failed to amortize, the Wilshire lease breach, and the five-hundred-thousand-dollar promissory note Chloe drew for her interior design company. Margaret Vance personally guaranteed those obligations. She has purchased the debt from First Western Bank this morning. She is now your sole creditor. And she has initiated immediate collections."
Chloe whipped around, her eyes wide, wild, and suddenly filled with venom as she glared at Julian.
"What is he talking about, Julian?!" she hissed, her voice vibrating with shrill terror. "You said you owned the firm! You told my father you were the primary partner! You told me the house was in your name!"
"Chloe, shut up, let me think!" Julian cried, pressing his palms against his temples.
"You lied to me?!" Chloe screamed, her facade of serene elegance completely shattering. "You don't own this?! We don't own anything?!"
"I... I run the company!" Julian stammered, looking around like a trapped animal. The flatbed tow truck was already winching the Porsche Taycan onto its steel bed, the metal cables screaming under tension. The G-Wagon was being backed up by another driver. "Arthur, let me speak to my mother! Let me talk to her! She doesn't mean this! She's just angry about last night!"
Arthur looked up from his papers. For the first time, a flicker of profound disgust crossed his weathered face.
"Your mother spent forty years carrying this city on her back, Julian. She poured the footing for the Interstate 10 overpass while you were sleeping in a nursery paid for by her sweat. She took thirty strikes to the face last night without blinking. If you think she is 'just angry,' you understand her even less than you understand the law."
Arthur gave a slight nod to the deputies.
May you like
"Your forty-five minutes begin now, Mr. Vance. If you are not off these grounds by eight-forty-five, you will be removed in handcuffs and booked for trespassing on commercial private property."
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