Chapter 5 - The Repo Man Comes Calling
The morning sun broke over the limestone cliffs of Lake Erie like a dull brass coin, offering no warmth to the high-rise glass tower at 1200 Lakefront Boulevard.
Inside the thirty-second-floor penthouse, Chloe Vance woke to the sound of thunder.
Except it wasn't thunder. It was the violent, rhythmic banging of heavy fists against the solid mahogany entrance door.
Chloe groaned, pulling the four-hundred-dollar goose-down duvet over her head. Her skull felt like someone had driven a railroad spike between her temples. After the nightmare at the country club—after her father had been forced to sign a personal confession of debt and surrender his gold Rolex watch to the general manager just to prevent the police from dragging them out in front of the press—they had retreated into the night like whipped curs.
"Chloe Vance!" a booming voice shouted through the three-inch oak. "County Sheriff’s Department! Open the door immediately!"
Chloe bolted upright in bed, her silk sleep mask dropping to her collarbones. "What the..."
She threw on a cashmere robe, stumbling across the imported marble foyer, and unlocked the deadbolt.
Standing in the hallway were two uniformed deputies in tactical vests, their hands resting near their service belts, flanked by the building's head of property management, a thin man named Greg whom Chloe had spent eighteen months treating like personal scullery help.
Beside Greg stood a locksmith holding a heavy drill and a set of master lock cylinders.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Chloe shrieked, clutching her robe shut. "Greg, have you lost your mind? Do you know who I am? I am Dr. Chloe Vance! I pay fifteen thousand dollars a month for this penthouse!"
Greg pulled a thick manila folder from his leather satchel, his expression entirely devoid of sympathy.
"Correction, Miss Vance," Greg said, his voice dripping with long-suppressed satisfaction. "You don't pay a single cent. The master corporate lease for Penthouse 4-B is held by Solis Enterprise Holdings, a subsidiary of Aegis Healthcare Technologies. At 6:00 AM this morning, our legal department received an expedited corporate termination of occupancy, accompanied by an emergency court order signed by Judge Miller."
Greg handed her a certified writ bearing the red seal of the Cuyahoga County Court of Common Pleas.
WRIT OF IMMEDIATE CORPORATE RESTITUTION & VACATUR RESPONDENT: CHLOE VANCE STATUS: TRESPASS / UNAUTHORIZED RESIDENTIAL OCCUPANT
"This is a mistake!" Chloe’s voice cracked into a desperate, shrill squeak. Her eyes darted between the two stony-faced deputies. "My father... my father’s company handles the corporate guarantees!"
"Your father’s company entered federal Chapter 7 bankruptcy liquidation two hours ago, ma'am," the lead deputy said, pulling a clipboard from his belt. "You have thirty minutes to collect one suitcase of essential personal effects—clothing and basic toiletries only. All furnishings, artwork, electronic appliances, and high-value luxury goods purchased under corporate invoice numbers are currently subject to a blanket federal preservation lien. Anything you attempt to remove from this unit beyond basic personal wear will result in an immediate charge of grand larceny."
"You can't do this!" Chloe wept, tears ruining her expensive eyelash extensions. "Where am I supposed to go?! My research papers! My designer bags!"
"Thirty minutes, Miss Vance," the deputy repeated, clicking his stopwatch. "Or we take you down to the Justice Center in your pajamas."
Forty miles south, in the gated community of Hunting Valley, an identical scene was playing out on the circular cobblestone driveway of my parents’ four-million-dollar French provincial mansion.
Evelyn Vance stood on the front lawn in her velvet house slippers, screaming curses at the top of her lungs as two heavy-duty flatbed tow trucks systematically reversed toward the four-car garage.
"Stop them! Richard, shoot them!" Evelyn wailed, waving her manicured fists in the air. "They’re taking the AMG! They’re taking my Lexus!"
Richard stood on the limestone porch, wearing wrinkled trousers and an unbuttoned dress shirt, holding an empty cup of coffee. His skin was the color of dirty snow, his bloodshot eyes staring in slack-jawed horror as two repo agents hooked heavy steel chains around the front axles of his brand-new Mercedes-Benz.
"Sir," the lead repossession specialist said, thrusting an electronic tablet toward Richard’s trembling chest. "Both vehicles were financed through a corporate fleet lease issued to Vance Contracting LLC, guaranteed by Solis Capital. The corporate guarantor defaulted the lines at midnight. We have orders to deliver both units to the regional commercial auction yard in Akron."
"I... I can write a check," Richard whispered, his voice trembling like a dry leaf. "Give me until noon. I have clients in Shaker Heights..."
"Your bank accounts were frozen by the federal bankruptcy trustee at 8:15 AM, Mr. Vance," the agent replied without looking up from his screen. "Sign the intake receipt, or we list both units as contested recoveries and call the highway patrol."
As the flatbed trucks pulled away, their diesel engines roaring as they dragged the luxury vehicles down the hill, Evelyn collapsed onto the manicured grass, her hands clutching at the damp turf.
"It’s Elena," Evelyn hissed, her eyes wild, her face twisted into an expression of demonic fury. "That little gutter rat... she’s doing this! She’s hacking our computers! She’s trying to destroy us because she’s jealous of Chloe!"
Richard dropped his coffee cup. The ceramic shattered against the stone steps, spilling black liquid across the monogrammed welcome mat.
"Get the keys to the lawn tractor," Richard rasped, his hands clawing at his throat.
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"What?!"
"Get the keys to the utility truck in the maintenance shed!" he roared, turning on his wife with bared teeth. "She’s at the hospital! We’re going down to that pediatric ward right now, and she is going to sign those accounts back to us, or I swear to God I will bury her!"
