Chapter 4 - The Eviction and the Ivory Coat
Thirty minutes earlier, Natalie Reyes had been lounging on the imported Italian velvet sofa in the sprawling, five-thousand-square-foot penthouse at The Sovereign on 57th Street.
She was wearing a silk robe, sipping an organic berry smoothie, and flicking through a luxury interior design catalog. Dominic had promised her that once Audrey was officially excised from their lives, they would completely gut the apartment.
"Get rid of every trace of that plain little mouse," Natalie had purred to Dominic that morning before he left for Belmont’s office. "I want European minimalist. Marble floors. Gold fixtures. And I want the nursery redecorated in royal blue for our boy."
She glanced toward the master hallway, where two industrial rolling trash bins were stationed. Over the past twenty-four hours, Natalie had personally taken immense pleasure in raiding Audrey’s closet. She had dragged Audrey’s hand-painted watercolor canvases from the study, dumping them unceremoniously into trash bags. She had swept Audrey’s medical research journals, her framed degrees from Johns Hopkins, and her family photo albums into the garbage chutes.
"Garbage," Natalie muttered aloud, tossing a framed photograph of Audrey smiling on a sailboat into the bin. "All of it, garbage."
Suddenly, the heavy double oak doors of the penthouse burst open with a resounding bang.
Natalie jumped off the sofa, spilling her smoothie across the cream rug. "What the hell?! Who gave you permission to enter—"
The words froze in her throat.
Walking through the foyer was Alexander Cross, flanked by the building’s General Manager, Mr. Henderson, two armed private security contractors, and a locksmith carrying an industrial drill.
"Excuse me!" Natalie shrieked, pulling her silk robe tightly around herself. "What do you think you’re doing? This is a private residence! I’m calling the police!"
"You won't need to call them, Miss Reyes," Alexander said calmly, stepping onto the hardwood floor and glancing around with cold distaste. "The NYPD 19th Precinct has already been notified of this legal eviction."
Mr. Henderson, the building manager who had previously treated Dominic like a king, stepped forward with his head bowed, looking visibly terrified of Alexander.
"Miss Reyes," Henderson squeaked, adjusting his glasses. "The master lease on Penthouse A has been formally terminated by the property owner, effective immediately."
"Are you insane?" Natalie yelled, her face flushing crimson. "Dominic owns this lease! He’s the CEO of Apex Surgical! He signed the divorce papers this morning! This apartment belongs to him!"
"This apartment belongs to the Sterling Real Estate Trust," Alexander corrected, his voice cutting through her screeching like an ice pick. "Mr. Vance held a conditional corporate sublease granted exclusively through Audrey Sterling’s family foundation. That sublease contained a strict moral turpitude clause, as well as an automatic termination trigger in the event of unauthorized third-party residency."
Alexander gestured toward the trash bins filled with Audrey’s destroyed belongings. His gray eyes turned lethal.
"Furthermore, Miss Reyes, you are currently trespassing on private property and engaging in the deliberate destruction of high-value personal assets belonging to Audrey Sterling."
"I am Dominic’s fiancée!" Natalie cried, stomping her foot. "I am carrying his child! You can’t evict a pregnant woman! There are tenant protection laws in New York!"
"Tenant protection laws apply to legal tenants, Miss Reyes," Alexander replied smoothly, pulling a certified document from his coat. "You have resided here for less than fourteen days. You have no lease, no utility bills in your name, and no legal standing. Under New York Real Property Law, you are an unauthorized squatter."
Alexander turned to the two security guards. "Pack Miss Reyes’s personal clothing into two standard suitcases. Everything else—including all furniture, artwork, and electronics purchased with corporate funds—remains under property lock."
"Don't touch my things!" Natalie screamed, lunging toward one of the guards who was heading toward the walk-in closet.
The second security officer stepped smoothly into her path, blocking her with his broad frame. "Ma'am, step back."
The locksmith immediately began drilling into the heavy brass deadbolt of the front door, the deafening whine of metal filling the luxurious apartment.
Within ten minutes, two large black suitcases were wheeled out of the bedroom and dumped unceremoniously by the elevator vestibule.
"My jewelry!" Natalie shrieked, running toward Alexander, her face streaked with mascara. "My Cartier bracelets! The diamond necklace Dominic bought me! Where are they?"
"All jewelry purchased by Mr. Vance over the preceding twelve months has been impounded by the federal receivership overseeing Apex Surgical Supplies," Alexander said, checking his watch with maddening calm. "As those items were procured using embezzled corporate credit lines, they are subject to asset forfeiture under federal law. If you attempt to remove any of those items from this building, you will be arrested on the spot for possession of stolen federal assets."
Natalie collapsed against the wall, clutching her stomach, hyperventilating. "This isn't happening... this is a nightmare... Dominic will fix this! Dominic is a millionaire!"
The elevator doors chimed, sliding open.
Alexander gestured toward the elevator cabin. "Your carriage awaits, Miss Reyes. Please exit the premises before Captain Miller’s men physically escort you to the curb."
Natalie scrambled into the elevator, dragging her two suitcases behind her, sobbing so violently she could barely stand.
Down on the street level, rain had begun to fall—a cold, miserable autumn drizzle that slicked the Manhattan pavement. The doorman, who had previously bowed and held umbrellas for Natalie whenever she stepped out in her designer heels, stood impassively under the awning as the security guards rolled her luggage out into the rain.
Five minutes later, Dominic’s black Mercedes screeched to a halt against the curb, splashing muddy water across the sidewalk.
Dominic leaped out of the car, his suit soaked, his hair plastered to his forehead. He saw Natalie sitting on her suitcases on the wet concrete, shivering in her thin silk robe, weeping hysterically.
"Natalie!" Dominic shouted, running toward her. "What happened? Where are the keys?"
"They kicked me out, Dominic!" Natalie screamed, slapping his chest with both hands. "They took the apartment! They took my jewelry! They took my Cartier bracelets! They called me a squatter! You told me you owned that penthouse! You told me your ex-wife was a nobody!"
"I... I do own it! Craig Belmont filed the papers!" Dominic stammered, pulling out his phone with shaking, wet hands. "I'm calling the police right now!"
"Don't bother, Mr. Vance."
Dominic froze.
Standing under the grand dry awning of The Sovereign was Alexander Cross. He stood with his hands resting calmly in the pockets of his charcoal overcoat, completely untouched by the rain.
"Cross," Dominic growled, stepping toward him with clenched fists. "You son of a bitch. You broke into my home! You harassed my pregnant fiancée! I'm going to sue you, I'm going to sue Audrey, and I’m going to sue that senile old bastard Arthur Sterling until none of you have a single penny left!"
Alexander didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He slowly took one hand out of his pocket and produced a thin white business card, tossing it casually onto the wet pavement between Dominic’s feet.
"That is the contact information for the United States Attorney’s Office for the Southern District of New York," Alexander said, his voice quiet, clear, and utterly crushing. "Special Agent Campbell is waiting for your call, Dominic. Apex Surgical Supplies has been placed into federal liquidation. The accounts are frozen. The servers are seized. And by five o'clock today, the state licensing board will officially revoke your medical distribution credentials."
Alexander stepped back toward the building’s revolving glass doors.
"Enjoy the rain, Dominic," Alexander added softly. "Because this is the most luxurious afternoon you will experience for the next twenty years."
The glass doors slid shut, locking with an audible, heavy electronic click.
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Dominic stood frozen on the sidewalk. Beside him, Natalie’s hysterical cries mingled with the honking of Manhattan traffic. The cold rain poured over them, drenching Dominic’s five-thousand-dollar suit, turning it into heavy, sodden rags clinging to his shivering frame.
***
