Chapter 7 - The Eviction Spectacle
|
By noon, the high-society neighborhood of Buckhead was buzzing with gossip.
A moving truck and two Fulton County Sheriff patrol cars were parked outside my estate. Neighbors stepped onto their manicured lawns, taking photos with their phones as Noelle stood near the iron gates, screaming at the moving crew as they tossed stacks of expensive clothing and antique furniture onto the driveway.
"You have no right!" Noelle shrieked, her expensive hair styling falling apart in the humid afternoon heat. "My son owns this house! I am a member of the Atlanta Historical Society!"
"Ma'am, step back from the vehicle," the deputy said calmly, holding up his hand. "The property owner has produced a clean title under the Vance Private Trust. You are currently trespassing."
Jeffrey's sports car screeched to a halt at the edge of the driveway. He jumped out, his suit coat unbuttoned, his face red with exhaustion and humiliation.
"Mother! What is happening?!" Jeffrey yelled, rushing over to her side.
"That devil woman kicked us out!" Noelle sobbed, grabbing her son's arm. "She had the police throw my things into the street! Look at my hand-painted vases! They're ruined!"
Cynthia stepped out of the passenger side, holding baby Austin, looking frantically at the mountain of luggage. "Jeffrey, where are we supposed to go? My condo key card stopped working an hour ago!"
"What?" Jeffrey whirled around to face Cynthia. "What do you mean it stopped working?"
"The management said the lease was terminated by the primary investor!" Cynthia cried. "All my clothes are locked inside!"
Just then, my black limousine pulled up to the gates. The rear tinted window slowly rolled down.
I looked out at the three of them standing amongst their ruined luxury, looking pathetic against the backdrop of the mansion they thought they had stolen from me.
"Madeline!" Jeffrey yelled, rushing toward the car. "Stop this madness! Where are my mother and son supposed to sleep tonight?!"
May you like
"Try the floor," I said, my voice cold as ice. "I hear it's good enough for four-year-olds."
The window rolled up, and the limousine glided through the iron gates, leaving them standing in the rain.
