“…then Brent Vance is no longer a husband going through a messy divorce,” Jennifer finished, her eyes gleaming. “He is an armed, unauthorized intruder committing felony destruction of property against a multi-national trust facility. He has no marital rights. He has no civil shield.”
“And corporate trespassing with intent to destroy property?” I asked, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“That warrants an immediate, heavily armed police response,” Jennifer said. “I have a federal judge who owes me a favor on standby to rubber-stamp the electronic deed transfer the moment you sign. Say the word, Tessa.”
I looked over my shoulder at the bassinet where Ivy was sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the fact that her father was currently trying to erase her grandmother’s legacy. I thought of the freezing rain. I thought of the smug, dripping condescension in Brent’s pre-recorded voice. I thought of the hundreds of nights he had slept beside me in my bed, whispering lies in the dark, plotting to desecrate the only home I had ever loved.
I didn’t feel sadness anymore. The betrayal had burned away, leaving nothing but cold, hardened steel in its wake.
“Sell it,” I commanded.
I reached for the laptop, my fingers flying across the trackpad. I typed my legal name, entered my biometric passcode, and hit submit.
Jennifer’s keyboard clattered as she executed the final filings. “Done. The Vanguard Trust is now the legal owner of Redwood Crest. I am calling the Boulder Police Department Chief directly. I am reporting a violent, unauthorized break-in at a corporate facility. Grab your coat, Tessa. We are going home.”
