Chapter 5 - The Weston Estate SaleThree months later, the fallout of Marcus Mercer’s criminal conviction reached its final, humiliating conclusion.
Because Mercer & Associates was liquidated under federal receivership to repay defrauded investors, all of Marcus’s personal property—including his prized Weston estate, his luxury sports cars, and his collection of expensive watches—was ordered to be sold off at a public bankruptcy auction.
On a crisp, sunny Saturday morning, Julian and I drove past the iron gates of the Weston mansion just out of professional curiosity. The sprawling property that Marcus had once bragged about so smugly was now swarming with bankruptcy trustees, appraisers, and bargain hunters.
As we walked up the stone steps toward the front entrance, a frantic, disheveled voice called out from the rose garden.
“Evelyn! Wait! Please!”
We turned around.
Chloe Vance—or rather, Chloe, who had quickly fled Marcus’s side the moment the federal indictments dropped and the bank accounts vanished—came jogging across the lawn. She looked a far cry from the smug, diamond-wearing mistress who had mocked me at the wedding reception. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, she wore an oversized sweatshirt, and her face was devoid of makeup.
“Chloe,” I said flatly, stopping on the steps. “Can I help you?”
Chloe stopped a few feet away, her chest heaving, looking desperately between Julian and me. “I heard you guys bought the rights to the property liquidation. Please... you have to help me. Marcus is in federal prison, my accounts were frozen because my name was on the lease, and I have nowhere to go. Everything I had was tied up in his accounts!”
I looked at her with cool, detached pity. There was no anger left in me—only the realization that people who build their lives on exploitation always end up destroying themselves.
“When you walked into my kitchen five years ago wearing my husband’s shirt, Chloe, you thought you were winning a prize,” I said quietly, my voice carrying clearly across the quiet lawn. “You didn't realize you were just taking over a sinking ship. You made your bed. Now you get to lie in it.”
Chloe’s lower lip quivered. She opened her mouth to plead, but Julian stepped forward, his dark eyes freezing her in her tracks.
“If you approach my wife or my family ever again, Ms. Vance,” Julian said in a low, lethal tone, “the legal team that put Marcus away will personally handle your deportation and tax evasion filings. Do I make myself clear?”
Chloe nodded frantically, burst into tears, and turned tail, running down the gravel driveway without looking back.
May you like
I watched her go, then turned to Julian, slipping my hand into his warm, strong palm.
“Come on,” I smiled. “Let’s go home.”
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