Chapter 4: In-laws Invasion

By the next morning, the digital clock on Kristen’s phone read exactly 9:00 AM. She had precisely ninety-eight hours and fifteen minutes left before the world froze over.

Up in Aspen, Colorado, a small army of Vanguard Security transport trucks was already tearing up the icy mountain roads toward her grandfather’s ancestral estate, The Snow Mountain Citadel. Logan’s elite engineering crews were working double shifts in the sub-zero mountain air to install the triple-layer reinforced titanium blast doors, thermal insulation panels, and independent geothermal hydro-grids she had paid twenty-five million dollars to secure.

But back in Manhattan, Josh Stewart's family was spiraling into pure financial panic.

Kristen was calmly finishing her breakfast at an exclusive Upper East Side cafe when her Vanguard security app buzzed sharply against her palm. High-definition perimeter cameras live-streaming from her private Manhattan penthouse showed a fleet of three black Escalades screeching to a halt right outside her secure lobby entrance.

Out stepped Victoria Stewart — her toxic, elitist mother-in-law — dripping in vintage furs, her face contorted in a mask of pure, high-society rage. Flanking her were four burly men in heavy tactical vests carrying industrial steel lock-breakers and hydraulic drills. They were private corporate mercenaries hired from a shady shadow-security firm.

"Cut through the biometric frame! Drill it out!" Victoria ordered, her shrill voice carrying clearly over the microphone as she pointed a manicured finger at the penthouse entrance. "Kristen Snow is concealing Stewart Enterprises' corporate physical ledgers in there! Destroy the lock if you have to! I want those assets seized before noon!"

Kristen didn't flinch. She took a slow, deliberate bite of her pastry, a cold, beautiful smile spreading across her lips. In the original plot of the book, the timid, submissive Kristen had let Victoria break into her home, slap her across the face, and ransack her grandfather's safe boxes without a fight.

Not in this lifetime.

Sienna didn't bother calling the standard municipal emergency lines. Thanks to her meta-knowledge of the book's network, she knew the exact private, encrypted cell number of Sheriff Marcus, the highest-ranking law enforcement official in the regional district—who also happened to owe his entire career to her late grandfather Arthur Snow's historical political backing.

She dialed the number directly. "Sheriff? This is Kristen Snow. My grandfather was Arthur Snow."

There was an immediate, sharp shift in the lawman's gruff tone on the other end of the line. "Miss Snow? Your grandfather was a great man. He saved my department during the crisis. What do you need?"

"I am currently facing an armed home invasion at my private Manhattan residence," Kristen said, her voice dropping into a calculated tone of fragile distress. "My ex-husband’s mother has brought hired, unauthorized corporate mercenaries to drill through my security gates. They are attempting to extort my family's estate, and I have their faces captured on a live, high-definition federal-grade security stream."

"I am three blocks away with an emergency tactical unit," Marcus growled through the line. "Hold tight, Miss Snow. Nobody touches Arthur's family."

Outside the penthouse, the hired mercenaries had just fired up an industrial circular saw, bright sparks flying across the stone sidewalk as they began grinding through the heavy iron security gates.

Victoria stood back on the pavement, a smug, triumphant smirk on her face. "Hurry up! Once we grab her physical asset ledgers, Josh can tie her up in federal court for a century. That useless, barren girl won't know what hit her!"

Suddenly, three tactical police cruisers flew around the corner, tires screeching violently as they completely boxed in the Escalades against the curb. A dozen armed officers jumped from the vehicles, weapons drawn and tactical lights flashing.

"Step away from the door! Drop the weapons and get on the ground right now!" Sheriff Marcus roared through a megaphone, his tactical unit moving in with flawless, military precision.

Victoria gasped loudly, her expensive designer bag falling right into a puddle of dirty street water as a heavy steel barrel was pointed at her chest. "What is the meaning of this?! Do you know who I am? I am Mrs. Stewart! My son is Josh Stewart!"

"I don't care if your son is the president, lady," Marcus said coldly, stepping forward and nodding to his deputies. "You and your men are under arrest for felony trespassing, attempted grand larceny, and operating an illegal armed militia on private property. Cuff them."

As Victoria was violently forced against the hood of the police cruiser, her expensive updo completely disheveled and her face pressed flat against the wet metal, the private elevator doors at the side of the lobby hissed open.

Kristen stepped out onto the marble foyer, wrapped in her pristine white mink coat. She was holding a warm cup of gourmet coffee, watching the entire spectacle with pure, unadulterated amusement.

"Kristen! You ungrateful snake!" Victoria shrieked, her voice cracking as she struggled against the heavy steel handcuffs. "Tell them to let me go! Josh will destroy you for this! You'll freeze on the streets!"

Kristen took a slow, deliberate sip of her coffee, smiled beautifully, and held up her phone — which was actively streaming Victoria's public arrest to a secure cloud server.

"Goodbye, Victoria," Kristen called out, her smooth voice echoing sweetly across the pavement over the sound of the sirens. "Enjoy the federal holding cells. I hear the industrial heating there is terribly unreliable this time of year."

As the police cruisers drove away, a sudden, freezing gust of wind swept down the Manhattan avenue, ripping a dead leaf from a tree. Kristen looked up at the sky. The heavy clouds were taking on a deep, bruised purple tint, humming with a strange, low-frequency pressure.

The countdown was ticking down fast. The stage was now perfectly set for the next scene of the book. Kristen grinned a devilishly drawn smile, who knew transmigrating into a book and rewriting the infuriating plot would be this fun.