Chapter 6 - The Penthouse Eviction
By 4:00 PM that afternoon, the rain had cleared over Manhattan, leaving the autumn sky dark and cold.
Adrian arrived at the penthouse apartment building on Park Avenue, his suit rumpled, his tie loosened, his eyes red and bloodshot. He pushed through the revolving glass doors of the lobby, ignoring the concierge, and rushed straight toward the private elevator bank.
He pulled his gold-plated elevator key fob from his pocket and pressed it against the scanner.
The scanner beeped red. ACCESS DENIED.
"What?!" Adrian yelled, slamming his hand against the panel. He tried again. ACCESS DENIED.
"I’m sorry, Mr. Vale," the head concierge, an older gentleman named Marcus who had worked in the building for fifteen years, said quietly as he stepped up behind him. "Mrs. Meridian-Vale issued strict instructions this afternoon."
"This is my penthouse!" Adrian roared, turning around, his face contorted in fury. "My name is on the lease!"
"The lease is registered under the Meridian Family Real Estate Holding Corporation, Sir," Marcus explained politely, handing him a sealed white envelope. "And as of two o'clock today, the locks have been changed. Your personal belongings have been packed by professional movers and placed in secure storage."
Adrian snatched the envelope, tearing it open with shaking hands.
Inside was a single warehouse key and a storage unit address in Queens, along with a formal notice of eviction served by the Sheriff's department.
"Where is she?!" Adrian shouted, grabbing Marcus by his lapels. "Where is Claire?!"
Two heavy-set building security guards immediately stepped between them, pulling Adrian’s hands off the concierge and shoving him back toward the street doors.
"Mrs. Meridian-Vale has moved her residence, Mr. Vale," Marcus said, adjusting his collar with calm dignity. "And if you step foot inside this lobby again, we have been instructed to have you arrested for criminal harassment."
Adrian was thrown out onto the wet pavement of Park Avenue as the heavy glass doors locked behind him.
He stood in the cold afternoon wind, holding a cheap brass storage key in his hand, watching his reflection in the dark glass of the building he had lived in for five years.
His phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out frantically, hoping against hope that it was Claire.
It wasn't Claire.
It was his personal banker from Chase Private Client.
May you like
"Mr. Vale," the banker said, his voice completely devoid of his usual warmth. "I am calling to inform you that your personal credit lines tied to the Vale Meridian corporate guarantor have been terminated. Your black card has been declined, and your joint accounts have been frozen pending the outcome of the divorce proceedings."
Adrian sank down onto the cold stone steps of the building, holding his head in his hands, as the reality of his new life finally settled over him like a suffocating shroud.
