Chapter 7 - The Eviction of Lacey
Inside the house, chaos reigned supreme.
Lacey had been rudely awakened ten minutes prior by the corporate legal associates pounding on the master bedroom door. Handed a formal eviction notice and a stern warning that any attempt to retain Clara’s personal belongings, jewelry, or designer wardrobe would result in immediate felony grand larceny charges, Lacey was currently rushing around the bedroom in a blind panic.
She was shoving clothes haphazardly into a neon pink Louis Vuitton duffel bag, her face red with humiliation and fury.
“This is ridiculous! I’ll call my lawyer! You can’t just throw me out on the street!” Lacey screamed down the hallway as one of the legal associates calmly watched her pack, checking items off an inventory list against Clara’s original purchase receipts.
“You have precisely fifteen minutes to vacate the premises, Ms. Vance,” the associate replied in a monotone, completely unbothered voice. “Any property remaining in the house after 7:30 AM will be treated as abandoned waste and disposed of.”
Lacey slammed her suitcase shut, zipped it with a violent tug, and stormed down the stairs, her heels clicking furiously against the hardwood. She burst onto the patio, her eyes blazing with absolute venom as she locked eyes with Clara, who was sitting comfortably in a shaded lounge chair sipping her tea.
“You think you’ve won, don’t you?” Lacey hissed, stopping inches from Clara’s chair before being gently but firmly steered back by one of the deputies. “You’re just a spoiled, bloated housewife who can’t hold onto a real man! He never loved you, Clara! He wanted me because I’m young, because I’m exciting, because—!”
“Because you’re cheap, shallow, and entirely disposable,” Arthur interrupted smoothly, stepping smoothly between Lacey and his daughter. He pointed a finger toward the front gates. “The Uber I ordered for you is waiting at the front security pillar. I suggest you walk briskly. The driver has strict instructions not to wait more than three minutes.”
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Lacey opened her mouth to hurl another insult, but the cold, unblinking glare in Arthur’s eyes silenced her instantly. She turned on her heel, grabbed her duffel bag, and stormed down the flagstone pathway, muttering obscenities under her breath as she disappeared around the corner of the house.
Damon watched her leave from inside the kennel, his heart sinking into his stomach. The illusion of his grand new life was disintegrating before his eyes, reduced to ash and humiliation in less than twenty-four hours.
