Chapter 4 - The House that Hailey Built
By 3:00 PM, Jasper, Gillian, and Priscilla were standing on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, their lunch cut short, waiting for a standard rideshare vehicle to pick them up. Jasper’s phone was ringing off the hook.
"Jasper! What is going on?" his CFO, Marcus, screamed through the receiver the moment Jasper answered. "Our servers just went dark! The prime brokerage account we use for our development payroll has been locked! I’ve got a notification from our primary clearing house saying our credit lines have been suspended due to 'material misrepresentation of key assets.'"
"What?" Jasper felt a cold sweat break out across his back. "How? The credit line was secured by our personal guarantee and the assets of my wife's father's estate!"
"That’s the problem, Jasper!" Marcus cried. "The bank did a routine audit of the collateral because of a red flag raised by Robertson Global. They found out that the 'modest contractor' you listed as Hailey’s father is actually Finnley Robertson. The owner of the bank is Finnley’s close friend! They realized we used a false asset declaration because we didn't actually own the underlying real estate—it was all held in a trust that Hailey controls!"
Jasper's phone slipped in his hand.
Finnley Robertson.
The name was legendary in the tech and infrastructure sectors. He was a kingmaker. A man who could fund a dozen startups with the spare change in his desk drawer.
"No... no, that’s a lie," Jasper stammered, his voice cracking. "Hailey's dad is a retired bricklayer. He wears flannel shirts! He drives an old pickup truck!"
"He drives a custom-built vintage truck because he likes mechanics, you idiot!" Marcus shouted. "We're ruined, Jasper! The Apex Group just emailed us. They’re pulling out of the fifty-million-dollar funding round. They said they don't do business with founders who are publicly humiliated for stealing cars from their own wives."
Jasper ended the call, his hands shaking so violently he almost dropped his phone.
"Jasper?" Gillian asked, looking at her son's ghostly pale face. "What is it? What did Marcus say? We’re still getting the mansion in the hills, right?"
"Shut up, Mom!" Jasper snapped, his stress turning into sudden, ugly rage. "We need to get back to the apartment. I need to find Hailey. She’s behind this. She must have complained to her dad, and he’s throwing some childish tantrum."
When their rideshare vehicle finally pulled up to their apartment building, Jasper didn't wait for his mother and sister. He ran up the stairs to the third floor, throwing the door open.
The apartment was completely empty.
But it wasn't just empty of Hailey and Toby.
Every single piece of furniture, every painting, every curtain, and even the high-end appliances had been stripped from the walls. The only things left in the entire apartment were Jasper’s clothes, tossed in a messy pile in the middle of the bare hardwood floor, and his mother’s cheap suitcases.
Sitting on top of the pile of clothes was a single, legal-sized envelope with the Robertson Global logo embossed in gold.
Jasper tore it open.
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Inside was a formal eviction notice. The apartment building, which Jasper had assumed was owned by a local real estate group, had been purchased by a subsidiary of Robertson Global three hours ago.
They had sixty minutes to pack his clothes and leave the premises.
