Chapter 4 - The Penthouse Lockout

By the time Alexander stumbled out of the ballroom, the whispers of the elite had morphed into a deafening roar of scandal. He bypassed the elevators to the main lobby and rushed toward the private, gold-plated lift that led to the owner's penthouse. He slammed his hand against the scanner.
Access Denied.
He punched in his override code, a sequence he had used for a decade.
Invalid Entry.
“Dammit!” Alexander kicked the brass panel, the sharp pain in his toe doing nothing to quell the panic rising in his throat. He pulled out his phone to call his private banker, only to find the screen lit up with twenty missed calls from his wealth manager. He dialed the number with shaking hands.
“Mark, what the hell is happening? My cards are declining, and my access to the penthouse is gone.”
“Alexander,” Mark’s voice was strained, terrified. “Vivien executed a marital asset freeze based on breach of fiduciary duty. She triggered the infidelity clause in the prenup.”
“The prenup has a one-million-dollar payout! She can’t freeze my personal liquid assets!”
“She can when she proves you used Trust funds to acquire them,” Mark explained grimly. “Alexander, she had forensic accountants tracking you for months. Everything is locked down. The cars, the private jet, the offshore accounts. You have exactly what is in your physical wallet right now.”
The phone slipped from Alexander’s sweaty grip, clattering against the marble floor. He was a man who had flown in private jets, who wore custom Italian suits, who commanded thousands of employees. Now, he was locked out of his own home with eighty dollars in cash and a dead phone.
Down in the lobby, Madison was shivering in the night air, her silver gown offering zero protection against the autumn wind. The valet refused to bring around the Mercedes because the keys belonged to the hotel. When Alexander finally walked out the sliding glass doors, looking as pale as a ghost, Madison ran to him.
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“Alex! They threw me out like trash! Take me to the Tribeca loft, we need to call your lawyers.”
Alexander looked at his mistress, noticing for the first time how sharp and demanding her voice was when she wasn’t getting her way. “The loft is gone, Madison. It’s all gone.”