Chapter 6 - The Eviction of KingsThe Friday morning sun broke over Manhattan, crisp, bright, and cold.
At 8:45 AM, three massive moving trucks, two police cruisers, and a crowd of forty news reporters and camera crews gathered outside the iron gates of the Vale estate.
I stepped out of a black Lincoln Continental, dressed in an immaculate ivory coat, wearing dark sunglasses and leather gloves. Beside me walked my five brothers—Luca, Nico, Dominic, Matteo, and Leo—all wearing tailored dark suits, walking in unison like a wall of unbreakable iron.
The court enforcement officer stepped up to the gate with a master locksmith. Within two minutes, the heavy iron chain was cut, and the gates swung open with a loud, metallic screech.
We walked up the long gravel driveway toward the mansion.
The front doors swung open, and Adrian stepped out, wearing a rumpled, stained suit, holding his hands up in panic as the media cameras began flashing relentlessly from the gate.
Behind him stood his mother, Eleanor, looking haggard, wrapped in an old woolen blanket, her face pale and terrified.
"Anna!" Adrian cried out, running down the stone steps. "What is all this?! Why are there reporters outside?!"
The court officer stepped forward, holding a yellow eviction order. "Adrian Vale, Eleanor Vale. By order of the New York State Supreme Court, you are hereby ordered to vacate these premises immediately. All real property, structures, and personal assets contained within have been assigned to Mrs. Anna Moretti under the receivership decree."
Eleanor let out a sharp, pathetic gasp, falling against the stone pillar. "Vacate?! This is my home! You can't throw us out onto the street!"
"It was never your home, Eleanor," I said, stepping forward, taking off my sunglasses to look her straight in the eyes. "You built this house on my father's blood and my tears. And today, the lease is up."
Two uniformed movers stepped past Adrian, carrying heavy wooden crates and plastic packing sheets into the house.
"Wait! What are you doing with my things?!" Adrian screamed, reaching out to grab one of the movers.
Nico stepped directly into Adrian’s path, placing a massive, gloved hand against his chest, shoving him back three feet until Adrian stumbled onto the stone steps.
"Don't touch the workers, little man," Nico growled softly, looking down at him like he was an insect. "You have ten minutes to grab your personal clothes in garbage bags and leave."
"Garbage bags?!" Eleanor shrieked. "We are the Vales!"
"Not anymore," Matteo interjected, holding up a certified court document. "As of 8:00 AM today, Vale Logistics has officially declared Chapter 7 bankruptcy. Your family crest, your brand name, and your corporate assets have been liquidated to satisfy your debts to Anna Moretti."
Adrian looked at the reporters filming every second of his humiliation from the driveway. He looked at his mother crying on the steps, and then he looked at me—standing tall, powerful, and utterly beyond his reach.
"Anna..." he whimpered, falling to his knees on the cold stone. "Please... give me one more chance. Just one..."
I looked down at him, pulled my leather glove off my right hand, and showed him the faint marks on my wrist one last time.
"Thirty strikes, Adrian," I whispered softly. "I counted every single one. Now... get off my lawn."
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Ten minutes later, the grand doors of the Vale estate were locked with new digital security codes.
The media captured every heartbreaking, pathetic second as Adrian and his mother were escorted down the driveway by state troopers, carrying two black garbage bags filled with rumpled clothes, stepping out into the cold morning air with nowhere to go.
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