He froze. “What?”
Chapter 4: The Notice to Vacate
“Tomorrow,” I said calmly, “you will receive the separation documents. And the notice to vacate.”
Marissa stumbled forward. “Vacate what?”
I met her eyes. “The house. The one you’ve been using as your personal storage unit and party venue for the last year. The deed was in my name, Marissa. Ethan forgot to mention that I bought it before we got married.”
Her mouth fell open. She looked like a fish gasping for air on a dock.
Just then, the heavy oak doors of the restaurant swung open. The air in the room shifted. A woman in a sharp charcoal suit stepped in, flanked by two assistants carrying thick folders.
It was my personal attorney, Sarah.
Her presence alone silenced the room. She walked straight to our table, her heels clicking a rhythm of inevitable doom.
“Mrs. Hale,” Sarah said, nodding to me. “The documents you requested have been executed. I came personally to deliver them, as you asked.”
She handed me a sleek, cream-colored envelope stamped with a gold seal.
Ethan stared at it like it was a ticking bomb. “What… what documents?”
I opened the envelope slowly, deliberately sliding out the papers.
“The foreclosure notice,” I said calmly.
“Foreclosure?” Marissa shrieked. “On what?”
“On the boutique property,” I replied.
Marissa gasped so loudly that a waiter dropped a fork at the next table. “You… you can’t do that! That’s my business! It’s in my name!”
“No,” I corrected softly. “The lease is in your name. The building was purchased by Ethan’s trust. The trust that was secured by the shares. The shares that I now own.”
I stepped closer to her. “When Ethan unlawfully used the assets as collateral, everything tied to that loan became legally reversible or seizable upon default. And since I am now the primary creditor…”
I let the sentence hang.
“I am evicting Velvet & Vice effective immediately. I have plans for that space. I’m thinking… a charity center for financial literacy.”
Marissa’s knees buckled. She actually grabbed the table to stop from falling. Ethan reached for her, but his eyes never left me. They were full of regret, fear, and a dawning realization of just how badly he had miscalculated.
“Laya,” Ethan whispered. “We’re family.”
I stepped into his space, my voice low, for his ears only.
“I begged you both for years to treat me like family. I begged for respect. I begged for boundaries. Instead, you treated me like currency.”
I placed the envelope into Ethan’s shaking hands.
“This is the last time you will ever spend something that belongs to me.”
