Chapter 8 - Foreclosure
The aftermath was swifter and more brutal than a guillotine.
By midnight, the wedding that was supposed to be the social event of the decade was trending across every social media platform in the world. The video of three angelic children walking down the aisle, followed by the revelation of the abandoned triplets and the ruined Montgomery lineage, racked up tens of millions of views.
Julian Carter didn't just cancel the wedding; he issued an immediate margin call on Montgomery Enterprises.
Without Carter’s equity, Ryan’s company went into technical default at 9:00 AM on Monday morning.
And Vance Global was waiting.
On Tuesday afternoon, I sat in the executive boardroom of Vance Global’s high-rise in Century City. Alexander sat to my right; our lead insolvency attorneys sat to my left.
The double doors opened, and Ryan walked in.
He was alone. He wore an off-the-rack navy suit that hung loose on his frame; he looked as if he hadn't slept or eaten in four days. His hands shook as he pulled out a chair and sat down across from me.
“Mariana,” he whispered, his voice hollow. “Where are the kids?”
“Safe,” I said, resting my forearms on the glass table. “Far away from you.”
“They’re my children too,” he rasped, a flash of his old arrogance flaring in his eyes. “You concealed them from me! Any family court judge will grant me joint custody! I have rights!”
Alexander chuckled, a dry, terrifying sound. He slid a folder across the table.
“Read page four, Mr. Montgomery,” Alexander said.
Ryan frowned, opening the folder. His eyes scanned the document, and then the color drained from his face once more.
It was the original dissolution agreement he had forced me to sign three years earlier.
Tucked into clause fourteen, drafted by his own ruthless mother and her predatory lawyers, was a sweeping, irrevocable waiver:
*‘The Husband hereby disclaims any and all present, future, and contingent parental, custodial, or financial rights and obligations arising from any conception or biological issue occurring prior to or during the dissolution of this marriage, forfeiting all claims in exchange for the full indemnification of spousal support.’*
They had put that clause in to prevent me from ever claiming child support if I had secretly been pregnant at the time of the split. They were so terrified of paying a dime to a ‘barren’ woman that they had legally severed his own rights before the children were even registered.
Ryan slumped back into his chair, the document slipping from his fingers.
“You knew,” he whispered.
“We knew,” I replied calmly. “Your mother’s greed was your own executioner, Ryan.”
I pushed a second document across the table.
“This is the foreclosure notice for the Montgomery estate in Beverly Hills,” I said. “Vance Global has purchased the underlying deed from your primary lender. You have seventy-two hours to vacate the premises.”
“Mariana... no,” he begged, tears spilling over his cheeks again. “That house has been in my family for four generations! My father built that library! You can't take my home!”
I leaned forward, my gaze locking onto his shattered eyes.
May you like
“My suitcase is outside, Ryan,” I said, quoting his exact words from three years ago, each syllable falling like a hammer on an anvil. “You are no longer welcome in that house.”
***
