Chapter 3 - The Eviction of a Queen
The Sterling Manor was a sprawling, Gilded Age mansion situated on ten acres of prime real estate in the city's most exclusive zip code. By 11:45 AM, the wrought-iron gates were surrounded by a sea of news vans, paparazzi, and curious onlookers.
Inside the grand parlor, Eleanor Sterling was throwing a tantrum of epic proportions. Her husband, David, a man whose only notable achievement was marrying into her money, was nervously pouring himself a scotch.
"Call the governor!" Eleanor screamed, throwing a Ming vase against the marble fireplace, where it shattered into a thousand priceless pieces. "We funded his entire campaign! He owes us!"
"Eleanor, he won't take my calls," David stammered. "Our accounts are locked. Even my personal black card was declined this morning. We have nothing. Vance Holdings absorbed it all."
"She is a fraud!" Eleanor roared, tearing at her own hair. "That brat is not Richard's! It's a setup!"
Before she could continue her tirade, the heavy oak front doors of the mansion were pushed open. Not by the butler, but by a line of uniformed sheriff's deputies, followed closely by Marcus and Nora.
Eleanor froze, her face turning a violent shade of crimson. "How dare you break into my house! I will have you all arrested for trespassing!"
"Actually," Nora said, stepping forward, dressed in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit. "This house belongs to the Sterling Trust. As of 9:00 AM this morning, the probate court legally recognized Leo Vance-Sterling as the sole beneficiary of that trust. Since he is a minor, I am the executor of the estate."
Nora pulled a thick stack of legal documents from her briefcase and dropped them onto the glass coffee table.
"You have ten minutes to vacate the premises," Nora stated cleanly. "You may take whatever fits in one suitcase. The jewelry, the art, the cars—they belong to the trust. They belong to my son."
"You can't do this to me," Eleanor hissed, tears of genuine panic finally spilling over her lashes. "I am a Sterling! This is my family!"
May you like
"You surrendered your right to that name the day you ordered the mechanic to sever the hydraulic lines on Richard's jet," Nora whispered, stepping so close only Eleanor could hear her. "I have the mechanic's confession, Eleanor. I've had it for five years. The only reason you aren't in handcuffs right now is because I want you to feel what it's like to be poor before you go to prison."
Eleanor’s knees buckled. She collapsed onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. The deputies stepped forward, pulling her to her feet by her arms, and began marching the former queen of high society out the front door, right into the blinding flashes of the waiting paparazzi.
