Dateline

Chapter 4 - The Eviction

“You can’t do this to us,” Mark whispered, his voice broken. He looked around the beautiful, sprawling house we had lived in for six years. “Elena, we built a life here. You can’t just throw me away.”

“You threw our marriage away the second you decided your brother’s gambling debts were more important than your wife’s grief,” I said coldly.

“Well, you can’t kick him out!” Barbara suddenly yelled, regaining some of her venom. “This is his house too! Half of this house belongs to Mark! You’ll have to sell it and split the profits. Mark, call a lawyer right now.”

I let out a genuine, hearty laugh. The sound seemed to unnerve them more than my anger.

“You really should read the documents you sign, Mark,” I said, wiping a tear of mirth from my eye. “Do you remember three years ago, when you were desperate to secure that business loan for David’s failed crypto venture? And your credit was too shot to get approved?”

Mark’s face went from pale to a sickly shade of green.

“You asked me to take on the mortgage entirely in my name so you could keep your debt-to-income ratio clear for the business loan,” I reminded him. “I agreed, on the condition that you signed a quitclaim deed to protect me from your brother's liabilities.”

“A quitclaim deed?” Barbara asked, looking confused. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” I said, leaning in close so she could hear every syllable, “that Mark legally relinquished all ownership rights to this property three years ago. His name is not on the deed. He doesn't own half this house. He owns nothing.”

Mark collapsed onto one of the barstools, burying his face in his hands. A raw, pathetic sob escaped his throat.

“So,” I said, checking my watch. “It is currently 7:45 AM. I have hired a moving company. They will be here at 9:00 AM to pack up Mark’s personal belongings. You have one hour and fifteen minutes to gather your things and get out of my house.”

May you like

“You are a monster,” Barbara spat, tears of fury streaming down her wrinkled cheeks.

“No, Barbara,” I replied, turning my back on her to pour myself a cup of coffee. “I am just a woman who finally learned how to play your game.”

Other posts