Chapter 11 - The Eviction
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Ethan’s humiliating public exposure at the hotel went viral within tech investor circles by three o'clock that afternoon. Every potential backer, loan officer, and corporate partner in the city pulled their funding overnight.
By six o'clock, Ethan returned to his luxury high-rise apartment downtown—the apartment he had been living in for the past two years.
When he tried to swipe his keycard at the front entrance, the electronic scanner beeped red and flashed an error message.
The head building manager, Mr. Henderson, stepped out from behind the concierge desk, flanked by two uniformed security guards.
"Can I help you, Mr. Whitman?" Mr. Henderson asked flatly.
"My keycard isn't working," Ethan snapped, sweating through his shirt collar. "Fix it immediately. I've had an extraordinarily stressful day."
"Your keycard has been deactivated, sir," Mr. Henderson informed him smoothly. "Because your lease has been officially terminated."
Ethan stared at him in utter disbelief. "What are you talking about?! I live in Penthouse B!"
"You lived in Penthouse B as a guest," Mr. Henderson corrected, holding up a sleek tablet. "The master leaseholder on the apartment is Miss Lena Vance. She paid the entire two-year lease up front from her personal account. This morning, her legal team exercised her right to terminate the lease agreement due to unauthorized occupants and criminal activity."
"You can't just kick me out!" Ethan screamed, his voice cracking hysterically. "My clothes are in there! My computers are in there!"
Two movers stepped out from the service elevator carrying four large, taped cardboard boxes marked ETHAN'S PROPERTY. They set them unceremoniously onto the marble floor of the lobby right at Ethan’s feet.
"Your personal items have been carefully packed and inventoried under police supervision," Mr. Henderson said. "Your company-owned servers and hard drives have been impounded by federal marshals under a preservation order."
Ethan dropped to his knees right in the middle of the luxury lobby, surrounded by his cardboard boxes, looking like a shattered ghost.
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He had no money, no apartment, no servers, and no status left.
His phone chimed in his pocket. It was a text from his mother: Ethan, where are you? The bank just froze my checking account.
