Chapter 7 - Behind Locked Doors
The penthouse was utterly quiet when we arrived back in the city. The city lights sparkled across the floor-to-ceiling windows, indifferent to the storm that had just decimated the Alder family name.
I stood in the master bathroom, stripping off the coffee-stained blouse. The hot water in the shower steamed against the glass, and as I stepped under the spray, I watched the brown residue wash down the drain. With it went every lingering obligation, every desperate childhood wish to be loved by a mother who saw me only as a utility.
When I stepped out, wrapped in a plush robe, Julian was waiting in the sitting room with a mug of chamomile tea and a fresh legal folder.
"Marcus filed the preliminary injunction twenty minutes ago," Julian said gently, handing me the warm mug. "All accounts tied to Alder Logistics have been locked by emergency court order. Eleanor and Brooke cannot draw another cent. We also served the preservation notice on the Alder Creek property."
I took a sip of the tea, the warmth steadying my hands. "What happens to the house?"
"Technically? You can have the sheriff evict Eleanor on Monday morning," Julian replied, sitting beside me on the sofa. "The deed is exclusively in Alder Preservation Group's name. You hold the title free and clear. She has zero legal defense."
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed violently on the glass coffee table.
It was Eleanor.
I let it ring until it went to voicemail. Ten seconds later, a voicemail notification popped up. I put it on speakerphone.
"Emma..." Eleanor’s voice was ragged, wet with tears, completely stripped of her usual theatrical grandiosity. "Emma, please pick up. Brooke is having a panic attack. The Sterlings officially canceled the wedding. Liam’s father called our bank, and now the caterers are demanding immediate cash payment of forty thousand dollars by tomorrow morning or they’re calling the district attorney for bad checks. Emma, you can't do this to your sister. If you don't sign the release on the corporate line, Brooke will be ruined! Her life is over! I am your mother! God will punish you for turning your back on your own flesh and blood! Call me back! Call me—"
Julian reached forward and deleted the message.
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"She still doesn't get it," I whispered, leaning my head against Julian’s shoulder. "Even now, with everything crumbling around her, she doesn't ask if I was burned by the coffee. She doesn't apologize. She just wants me to pay for Brooke's mistakes."
"Narcissists don't change when they are exposed, Emma," Julian said softly, kissing my temple. "They only escalate until their supply is completely cut off. Tomorrow, we cut the supply."
