Chapter 2 - The Departure and The Delusion

By the time Ethan practically fled the clinic, leaving his screaming mother and sister to deal with a hysterical Mia in the lobby, a sickening dread had taken root in his stomach.

He needed to breathe. He needed his sanctuary. He jumped into his sports car, his hands shaking so violently he could barely push the ignition button. He drove erratically through the downtown traffic, desperate to get back to his luxury condo. He would pour himself a scotch, figure out a legal way to destroy Mia, and then... then what?

Then he would call Claire. Yes. Claire had always fixed his messes. She was weak. She was compliant. He would apologize, tell her he made a mistake, and she would take him back. She always did.

Ethan pulled into the underground parking garage of his high-rise building. He scanned his key fob at the elevator, riding it up to the penthouse floor. He walked down the hall, slipping his heavy brass key into the lock.

It didn't turn.

Ethan frowned, jiggling the handle. He pulled the key out, wiped it on his slacks, and tried again. Still nothing.

"Having trouble, Mr. Parker?"

Ethan spun around. Standing at the end of the hall was Mr. Henderson, the building's severe-looking property manager, flanked by two large security guards.

"The lock is jammed," Ethan snapped, his patience entirely gone. "Get maintenance up here immediately. I've had the worst day of my life and I want to go into my home."

"I'm afraid that isn't possible, sir," Mr. Henderson said calmly, stepping forward with a clipboard. "The locks were legally changed at 10:05 this morning."

Ethan glared at him. "Excuse me? I am the primary resident! You can't lock me out of my own property!"

"You are a registered occupant, Mr. Parker, but you are not the leaseholder," Henderson corrected, reading from his notes. "The lease for this penthouse is held by Bennett Tech Solutions LLC. At 10:04 AM today, the CEO of that company terminated the lease, paid the breakage fee in full, and authorized the immediate removal of all unregistered personnel. Specifically, you."

Ethan’s brain short-circuited. Bennett Tech Solutions? Bennett was Claire's maiden name.

"What are you talking about?" Ethan laughed, though it sounded like a dying animal. "Claire doesn't have a company! I pay the rent! My corporate account pays for this place!"

"Actually, sir, the rent has been drafted from an offshore account registered to Ms. Bennett for the past six years," Henderson said, offering a tight, unsympathetic smile. "Your personal accounts were merely used as a passthrough for tax purposes. I have the legal eviction notice right here. You have five minutes to collect any personal items you can carry. Everything else will be placed in a storage unit."

"You're lying!" Ethan screamed, lunging forward, but the two security guards instantly blocked his path, their hands resting on their utility belts.

Ten minutes later, Ethan found himself standing on the sidewalk in the drizzling rain, holding a single duffel bag containing a few tailored suits and his golf clubs.

He pulled out his phone, his fingers trembling as he dialed his bank. He needed a hotel. A five-star suite to regroup.

"Welcome to Chase Platinum Services," the automated voice purred, followed by the click of a live representative. "How can I help you today, Mr. Parker?"

"I need to check the balance on my primary checking account," Ethan barked.

"One moment, sir... Ah. It appears your balance is currently negative four hundred and twelve dollars. And your platinum credit line was closed by the primary account holder, Ms. Claire Bennett, at 10:05 AM this morning."

Ethan dropped his phone. It shattered on the wet concrete.

---

Thousands of miles away, the sun was shining brilliantly over the Pacific Ocean. I stood on the sprawling teak deck of my new multi-million-dollar beachfront estate in Malibu, California. The salty ocean breeze whipped through my hair.

Behind me, in the massive infinity pool, Lily and Leo were splashing and laughing with absolute, unfiltered joy.

My phone buzzed on the patio table. I picked it up. My lawyer, Sarah, had sent a brief, incredibly satisfying text message.

The condo locks are changed. The joint accounts are drained. His credit is zeroed out. Enjoy the sunshine, Claire.