Chapter 3 - Locked Out of Paradise
The morning sun broke over the suburban skyline, casting golden light across the manicured lawns.
Julian woke up in the backseat of his leased sports car, parked in a commercial strip-mall parking lot three miles from the estate. His neck was stiff, his eyes bloodshot, and his expensive linen shirt was rumpled and stained with spilled alcohol.
He rubbed his face, his brain groggily replaying the catastrophic events of the previous night. Anger surged through him, replacing his initial panic.
"Crazy bitch," Julian muttered to himself, gripping the steering wheel. "She thinks she can destroy me? I made her. I’ll hire the most ruthless divorce attorney in Chicago and take half of everything she has."
He pulled out his smartphone to call his personal banker. He needed to transfer funds to retainer a high-profile family law firm.
He opened his mobile banking app.
Access Denied. Account Suspended.
Julian froze. He dialed the bank’s VIP client line instantly.
"Sir, as of 6:00 AM today, the joint credit lines and primary liquidity accounts attached to the Sterling Family Trust have been frozen under a court-mandated preservation order filed by Mrs. Evelyn Sterling's legal team," the representative explained smoothly. "Additionally, the primary cardholder removed your name as an authorized user."
"She can't do that! That's my money!" Julian roared into the phone.
"Sir, our records indicate all incoming deposits into those accounts for the past twenty-four months originated from Knox & Sterling Corporate Payroll under the name Evelyn Sterling. You have zero verified income on file."
Julian slammed his hand against the dashboard, ending the call. He grabbed his wallet and pulled out his black corporate credit card. He drove to a nearby Starbucks, ordered an espresso, and slid the card into the reader.
DECLINED.
He tried his second card.
DECLINED.
Sweat began to bead on his forehead. He had exactly forty-seven dollars in cash tucked into his wallet. His gas tank was on quarter full.
He drove to his brother Marcus’s house in an affluent neighboring subdivision, desperate for a place to shower, regroup, and borrow money. He pulled into the driveway and pounded furiously on the front door.
The door swung open. It wasn’t Marcus. It was Selina, wearing an elegant silk robe, holding a cup of steaming coffee. Her eyes hardened the moment she saw him.
"What do you want, Julian?" she asked coldly.
"Is Marcus home? I need to speak to my brother," Julian demanded, trying to push past her into the foyer.
Selina held her ground, blocking the doorway. "Marcus isn't interested in talking to you. In fact, he left for his office an hour ago after seeing the screenshots I showed him."
"Screenshots?" Julian blinked, a knot of dread tightening in his stomach.
Selina pulled out her phone and tapped the screen, holding it up to his face. It was a folder containing dozens of late-night text messages Julian had sent her over the past six months—flirtatious comments, inappropriate compliments about her body, and bitter rants about how Evelyn was "holding him back."
"Marcus was devastated to see how snakes operate in his own family," Selina said, her tone dripping with contempt. "He told me to give you this."
She handed him a small canvas gym bag resting near the door.
"What’s this?" Julian asked.
"Your golf clubs and a few old shirts you left in our garage last month," Selina replied. "Marcus paid off your phone line and transferred the contract to your name. From this point on, you are on your own. Do not come back to this house."
"Selina, please! I have nowhere to go! Evelyn froze my accounts!" Julian begged, his composure cracking completely. "I'm your family!"
"Evelyn was your family," Selina said sternly. "She nearly killed herself working to keep you out of prison while you were sitting poolside, hitting on your brother’s wife and making fun of her body. You deserve every single thing coming to you."
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She slammed the door in his face. The heavy deadbolt clicked into place with a sound that sounded like a prison sentence.
Julian stood on the porch, holding his gym bag, entirely alone in the world.
