Chapter 5 - Eviction Notice
Gavin fell back onto the sofa, the air completely knocked out of him. The proud, arrogant CEO who had ordered his wife to be beaten and discarded just minutes ago now looked like a drowning man.
"Thirty million..." Gavin whispered. "If you call in that line of credit, the company goes bankrupt by Friday."
"The company won't go bankrupt," I told him, stepping up beside my father. "Because tomorrow morning, I am stepping in as the interim CEO. The clients don't know you, Gavin. They know the Rourke Logistics brand, which was built on my father's supply chain networks. They will stay because I will be the one running it."
Brielle looked back and forth between us, realizing the ship was sinking fast. She snatched her designer purse off the side table. "Gavin, I’m leaving. Figure this out yourself."
"Where do you think you're going, Ms. Knox?" Arthur asked, stopping her with a raised hand. "The purse you are holding was purchased at a boutique in Paris using a Rourke Logistics corporate card. That constitutes possession of
stolen property funded by corporate embezzlement. If you leave this house with that bag, or any jewelry given to you by Mr. Rourke using company funds, we will have the police arrest you at the edge of the property."
Brielle dropped the purse as if it had turned into a snake. "It was all him! He told me he was a billionaire! I didn't know anything about a trust!"
"Leave," I told her. "Walk out the door, down the driveway, and off this property. If I see your face near my company or my family again, Arthur will make sure you spend your youth in a federal penitentiary."
Brielle didn't look back. She ran out into the night, her high heels clicking frantically against the driveway before fading into silence. She didn't even glance at Gavin. The love she had professed for him evaporated the moment the money did.
Gavin looked at the open door, then up at me, his eyes bloodshot. "Clara... please. We’ve been married for eight years. You can't do this to me. I made mistakes, I know. Brielle seduced me, she tricked me! I love you. We can fix this."
He crawled forward on his knees, reaching out to grab the hem of my trousers, exactly the way he had expected me to beg just an hour ago.
I stepped back, disgusted.
"Don't touch me," I said. "You didn't care about eight years when you raised that belt. You didn't care about eight years when you flaunted your mistress in my face. You loved the wealth, Gavin. You loved the power. But you forgot where it came from."
My father stood up, signaling to his men. "Mr. Rourke, you have ten minutes to grab your personal wallet and your ID. Everything else in this house—the clothes, the watches, the furniture—stays. If you are still on this property in eleven minutes, my men will forcefully remove you for criminal trespassing."
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"Where am I supposed to go?!" Gavin cried, his voice cracking with desperation. "I don't have any money! My personal accounts are tied up in corporate guarantees!"
"Then I suggest you start walking," I said coldly. "The main road is about three miles down. I hear it's a nice night for a stroll."
