Chapter 3 - The Dawn of Reality
The sun began to crest over the Hollywood Hills,
bleeding orange and red into the smog-filtered sky.
I stood on the sidewalk across from the iron gates of the mansion,
watching as three black SUVs pulled up to the curb.
Mark,
my head of security,
stepped out and approached me with a nod.
"The locks have been coded,
Ma'am,"
he said,
his voice low.
"The utility companies are on standby to transfer the service back to the primary corporate account."
"Proceed,"
I said,
the word feeling like a gavel strike.
I watched from the driveway as the team moved with clinical efficiency.
They didn't break down doors;
they simply used the master codes that Austin had forgotten I possessed.
Inside,
I could hear the muffled sounds of confusion.
A shout,
a door slamming,
and then the high-pitched,
shrill voice of Brielle.
I walked through the front door just as Austin was coming down the stairs,
wearing nothing but a pair of silk pajamas and an expression of pure,
unadulterated rage.
"What is this?"
he screamed,
gesturing at the men in suits who were currently placing "Property of Caldwell Urban" stickers on the expensive furniture.
"Mom,
have you lost your mind?
Get these people out of my house!"
"It isn't your house,
Austin,"
I said,
standing in the center of the foyer where he had told me to leave just hours before.
"As of 4:00 AM this morning,
Caldwell Urban Properties has terminated the lease-free occupancy agreement for this residence."
Brielle appeared at the top of the stairs,
her face pale and her eyes wide with terror.
"You can't do that!
We have rights!"
"You have the rights of any tenant who has violated the terms of their stay,"
I replied,
handing Austin a thick manila envelope.
"Inside,
you will find a detailed audit of the 'consulting' fees you and your wife have been siphoning from my company.
That is embezzlement,
Austin.
It is a felony."
He looked at the papers,
his hands starting to shake so violently that the envelope fell to the floor,
spilling the evidence of his greed across the marble.
"Mom,
please,"
he whispered,
the bravado of the previous night vanishing in the face of legal ruin.
"We were just...
we were going to pay it back."
"With what?"
I asked,
my voice cold and unwavering.
"The salary I pay you for a job you barely show up for?
The dividends from the trust that I have frozen as of ten minutes ago?"
I stepped closer to him,
looking him in the eye.
"You wanted healthy boundaries,
Austin.
You wanted me to stop acting like I was in charge because I earned the money.
Well,
the boundary is here.
You are no longer an employee of Caldwell Urban.
You are no longer a resident of this estate.
And you are no longer my responsibility."
Brielle began to cry,
a theatrical,
loud sobbing that no longer moved me.
"You’re throwing your own son onto the street?"
she wailed.
"No,"
I said,
turning toward the door.
May you like
"I’m letting a successful man stand on his own two feet.
I believe that’s what he asked for."
