Chapter 5 - The Eviction of Brynna ShawThe sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm amber glow over the sprawling lawns of Seabriar Hall. But inside the grand foyer, the atmosphere was biting and glacial.
Marianne Mercer and Brynna Shaw were waiting by the double doors, flanked by three large suitcases and a mountain of pastel-wrapped baby shower gifts piled precariously on a luggage cart. When Caleb walked out of the executive office with slumped shoulders and a signed folder in his hand, Marianne rushed forward immediately.
"Caleb? What happened? Why are the estate security guards telling us we have to leave?" Marianne demanded, her voice shrill and indignant. "Did you talk some sense into Julianne? Tell her we need to move the baby shower gifts to the east cottage immediately!"
Caleb didn't look up. He stopped a few feet away, holding his car keys in a shaking hand.
"We're leaving, Mother," he muttered, his voice hollow.
Brynna stepped forward, her face pale under her makeup, one hand resting protectively over her pregnant belly. "Leaving? What do you mean, leaving? Caleb, you said this estate was yours! You promised me we'd be living in the main house by next week!"
"I lied," Caleb snapped, finally breaking. He glared at Brynna with a sudden flash of bitter resentment. "I lied to you, I lied to Jules, and I ruined my entire life because I thought I was untouchable. Now grab your bags and get out before Julianne's father physically throws us off the property."
Marianne gasped, clutching her pearls. "You cannot speak to us like that! I am a Mercer! This property belongs to our family—"
"No, Marianne," I said, stepping gracefully out of the hallway into the foyer, my black maternity dress sweeping the polished floor. My C-section incision still ached, but standing upright, surrounded by my father and my loyal staff, I had never felt stronger. "Seabriar Hall belongs to the Voss family. And as of five minutes ago, Mercer Events LLC is officially bankrupt, evicted, and banned from these grounds permanently."
Brynna stared at me, her eyes welling with angry tears. "You're heartless! I'm carrying his child!"
"And you chose to carry him with a married man who used my home, my money, and my dead mother's cradle to stage your little fantasy," I replied coldly. "You have twenty minutes to clear the east cottage. If anything of yours remains on this property after sunset, it goes into the marsh dumpster."
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My father stepped toward the front doors and pulled them wide open, letting the cool evening breeze sweep through the grand foyer.
"The gate is unlocked," my father said simply, gesturing toward the long oak-lined driveway. "Walk."
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