Chapter 3: The Eviction Notice
By noon, Margaret was hosting a "celebratory" brunch for her high-society friends on the patio of the mansion. Brenda was parading around in a silk robe, sipping mimosas, already acting like the lady of the house.
Their laughter was interrupted by the screech of heavy tires on the gravel driveway.
Five black SUVs boxed in Margaret's Mercedes. A team of men in dark suits marched up the front steps, led by my personal fixer, Marcus.
Margaret stood up, her face flushed with indignation. "Who do you think you are? This is private property! I'll have you arrested for trespassing!"
Marcus didn't blink. He handed her a crisp, legal document. "Actually, ma'am, this property is owned by the Escalante Family Trust. As of 8:00 AM this morning, the resident agreement was terminated. You have exactly thirty minutes to vacate the premises before you are escorted off by force."
Brenda dropped her mimosa glass. It shattered on the imported stone. "That's impossible! Andrew owns this house!"
"Andrew owns nothing," I said, stepping out from behind Marcus.
Margaret gasped, clutching her chest. "Mariana? What is the meaning of this?"
"It means you're homeless, Margaret," I said smoothly. My eyes flicked to Brenda, who was clutching her robe tightly. "Oh, and Brenda? Before you leave." I snapped my fingers.
Two security guards stepped forward and grabbed Brenda's overnight bag. They unzipped it, dumping the contents onto the patio table. Tumbling out among the cheap lingerie was Margaret’s 'stolen' emerald necklace.
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Margaret let out a horrified shriek. "You... you stole my mother's emeralds?"
"She needed an excuse to get me out of the house," I explained casually, watching Brenda turn pale. "Too bad she didn't realize the necklace is a cubic zirconia fake. The real one was pawned by your late husband twenty years ago. Now, both of you. Get off my property."
