Chapter 3 - The Echoing Mansion
At 6:30 AM, the alarm on Garrett’s phone began to chime.
He groaned, rolling over on his mattress to swing his legs out of bed. His feet landed directly on the bare hardwood floor—the plush sheepskin rug he usually stepped on was gone.
"What the..." Garrett muttered, rubbing his eyes. He reached over to his nightstand to grab his glass of water, but his hand hit empty air. The nightstand wasn't there.
He opened his eyes fully and gasped.
The custom blackout curtains that usually kept the morning sun out were completely missing. The high-end designer wardrobe cabinets that lined his master bedroom were gone. His thousands of dollars in designer suits were sitting in sad, crumpled piles directly on the bare floorboards.
Panic flared in his chest. "Victoria!" he yelled, jumping up. "Victoria, what did you do?!"
He burst out of the master bedroom and ran down the grand hallway, his bare feet slapping against the cold floor. He sprinted toward his mother’s guest suite and threw the door open.
Delilah was sitting up on her mattress, wrapped in her blankets, looking around the barren room in total horror. "Garrett! What is happening?! Where are my antique mirrors? Where is my velvet lounge chair?"
"I don't know!" Garrett yelled, his voice cracking. "We've been robbed! Thieves got into the house!"
"Robbed?!" Delilah shrieked, scrambling out of bed. "Where were the security alarms? Where was the guard dog?"
"Come on!" Garrett grabbed his phone and rushed down the grand double staircase.
When he reached the foyer, he froze. His heart slammed against his ribs like a trapped bird.
The three-hundred-pound crystal chandelier that usually hung above the entrance was gone, leaving behind a blank, white ceiling with exposed wire caps. The grand living room, which had housed fifty thousand dollars worth of Italian leather furniture, was entirely empty. The walls were completely bare—no artwork, no sconces, no television. The floor was vast, hollow, and freezing cold.
"Oh my god... oh my god..." Garrett stammered, his eyes darting wildly across the empty expanse.
He sprinted into the kitchen.
The massive, open-concept kitchen was stripped down to the bare quartz countertops. The barstools were gone. The motorized blinds were gone.
The only object remaining in the vast, empty ten-thousand-square-foot mansion was the Sub-Zero refrigerator sitting isolated in the center of the wall.
The iron eye-bolts were still screwed into the cabinetry. The thick, welded steel chain was still wrapped tightly around the handles. And the heavy brass padlock hung firmly in place.
Garrett ran over to the fridge and grabbed the padlock, his hands trembling violently. "My wine... my gourmet cheeses..."
He grabbed the handle and yanked on it, but the chain held firm. Then he noticed something else. The digital temperature display at the top of the fridge was completely dark.
He looked down. The thick black power cord was lying limp on the floor, unplugged. A tiny puddle of lukewarm, melted frost water was beginning to slowly seep out from underneath the bottom freezer drawer.
"No, no, no!" Delilah screamed, shuffling into the kitchen in her bathrobe. "Garrett! My caviars! My imported truffles! The fridge is off!"
Garrett dropped to his knees, frantically grabbing the heavy power cord and plugging it back into the wall outlet. Nothing happened. The green indicator light stayed dark.
"The power... the smart breakers are gone!" Garrett panicked, pulling at his hair. He pulled out his phone with shaking fingers and dialed my number.
At the Four Seasons hotel, I was sitting on a sunlit balcony, wearing a white plush robe, slowly sipping my morning espresso while watching Noah and Lily eat pancakes at a glass table.
My phone rang. The screen displayed: Garrett.
I let it ring three times before sliding the bar to answer. "Hello, Garrett."
"VICTORIA!" Garrett’s frantic, enraged voice blasted through the speaker so loudly that I had to hold the phone an inch away from my ear. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY HOUSE?! WHERE IS ALL THE FURNITURE? WHERE ARE THE LIGHTS? WE’VE BEEN ROBBED!"
"You haven't been robbed, Garrett," I said smoothly, taking another sip of espresso. "You've been repossessed."
"What the hell are you talking about?!" he screamed. "Repossessed by who?!"
"By Apex Logistics," I replied, my tone icy and precise. "The sole corporate owner of the deed to that estate, every piece of furniture inside it, and the very electricity running through those walls."
There was a long, terrifying silence on the other end of the line.
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"Apex... Logistics?" Garrett stammered, his arrogance suddenly cracking into pure confusion. "What does a supply chain company have to do with my house?!"
"I am the founder, majority shareholder, and CEO of Apex Logistics, Garrett," I said softly. "I bought that house three years ago to save you from going to prison for corporate debt. And last night, I decided to pull back my assets."
