Chapter 3 - The Eviction of the Matriarch
At 8:00 AM the following morning, Noah’s fever finally broke. The doctor assured us he would make a full recovery, though another few hours of neglect would have been fatal. I kissed Elena’s forehead, told her I had to handle some corporate paperwork, and left the hospital.
When I pulled into the driveway of our estate, my mother’s luxury SUV was parked out front. Inside, the house smelled of fresh coffee and expensive pastries. Diane and Chloe were sitting at the breakfast bar, talking to a real estate agent about remodeling the guest wing.
"Oh, Julian, you're back," Mother said, pouring a cup of coffee without looking up. "How is the baby? I assume the hospital staff laughed at Elena’s little tantrum?"
"The baby almost died, Mother," I said, my voice completely devoid of inflection.
Chloe rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Elena is just trying to make us look bad because she can't handle being a mom. Honestly, Julian, you need to think about getting a full-time nanny and putting her in a facility for postpartum depression."
"I agree," I replied, walking into the kitchen. I looked at the real estate agent, a man I knew well. "Robert, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. This house is no longer on the market, and no renovations will be taking place."
Robert looked uncomfortable, sensing the ice in the room, and quickly gathered his papers and left.
"Julian! How dare you insult my guests!" Diane snapped, standing up, her aristocratic pride flaring. "I raised you! I managed your life! You do not speak to me or my associates in that tone!"
"You didn't raise me, Diane. You controlled me," I said, pulling a stack of legal documents from my briefcase and placing them on the marble island. "This is a formal, immediate eviction notice. You have exactly two hours to pack your clothes and leave this property."
Chloe gasped, dropping her coffee cup. "Are you insane?! This is Mom's house! You bought it for her!"
"I bought it through the Kane Family Trust," I corrected, looking Chloe dead in the eye. "A trust of which I am the sole trustee and executor. You two do not own a single brick of this estate. And as for your allowances, your credit cards, and your access to the corporate accounts—as of five minutes ago, they have all been frozen."
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Diane’s face turned an ugly, mottled red. "You ungrateful brat! You would throw your own mother onto the street for that low-class charity case? You think the board of your company will stand for this kind of public scandal?"
"The board answers to me, Mother. And they've already seen what you did."
