Chapter 3

The large wooden doors of Sterling & Vance Legal Consultancy opened with a soft click. I walked into the cool reception area, my heels making sharp sounds on the smooth marble floor.

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting across from Marcus Vance, a senior lawyer known for being very tough in divorce cases. He looked through the financial documents, bank statements, and land papers I had placed in front of him. With every page he read, his eyebrows rose higher in surprise.

“Let me make sure I understand everything, Mrs. Morley,” Marcus said, placing his gold pen on the desk. “The house on Maple Street was bought with your inheritance before you got married. You have paid the mortgage, taxes, and maintenance with your own salary. Your husband, Julian Morley, has not had any proven income for the past two years. You also have proof that money was taken from your personal account and sent to another person—a woman named Chloe Bennett?”

"Correct," I said, my hands resting calmly on my lap. "I want a clean, contested divorce filed by tomorrow morning. I want him legally served at the Maple Street property. Furthermore, I want an emergency freeze on the deed so he cannot attempt to leverage or mortgage the house."

Marcus smiled coldly. “With all this proof of financial abuse, getting a restraining order and freezing the assets will be easy. He won’t be able to touch anything on that property without breaking the court’s order.”

"Good," I replied, standing up and handing him a retaining check from my remaining personal savings. "Serve him at noon."

By 11:45 AM, I stood outside the Maple Street house. The sun burned brightly overhead, casting long shadows across the neatly manicured lawn—a lawn I had spent my weekends mowing while Julian slept in.

I took a deep breath, walked up the porch steps, and pushed open the front door using my personal key.

The living room was an absolute disaster zone. Sofa cushions were torn off, drawers swung open, and empty takeout boxes littered the glass coffee table. Brenda sat on the leather sofa in a stained robe, fanning herself with a magazine, while Julian paced back and forth like a caged animal, barking into his phone. Chloe sat at the dining table, painting her fingernails, wearing my favorite cashmere cardigan.

The moment the door shut behind me, all three of them whipped around.

"You!" Brenda shrieked, hauling her heavy frame up from the couch. "You actually had the nerve to come back?! Where is the money, Clara?! Julian’s cards were declined at the grocery store! Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?!"

Julian slammed his phone onto the counter, his face flushed with rage as he stomped toward me. "You’ve gone completely off the deep end! Undo the bank freeze right now, Clara, or I swear to God—"

"Or what, Julian?" I interrupted, my voice dropping into a register so cold and steady that he actually hesitated mid-stride. "You'll hit me? Like you tried to do this morning?"

"Don't you turn this on him!" Chloe chimed in, tossing her nail polish brush down and strutting over in her high heels. She looked at me with a sickening sneer of pity. "Clara, honestly, you're being so dramatic. Julian is under a lot of stress trying to start his business. As his wife, you should be supporting him, not throwing temper tantrums because his family needs a little help."

I turned my head slowly to look at Chloe. In my past life, I had treated this girl like a younger sister, buying her clothes, cooking her meals, and comforting her when she claimed she was "overwhelmed."

"My cardigan looks nice on you, Chloe," I said softly. "Too bad the sweat stains under the arms are going to ruin it."

Chloe’s face flushed bright red. "What?!"

I paid her no further attention and walked past Julian toward the hallway leading to the master bedroom. My objective was simple: retrieve my grandmother’s vintage wooden jewelry chest—the only physical heirloom I had left of my real family.

"Hey! Don't you ignore me!" Julian yelled, grabbing my arm from behind.

His grip was tight, his fingers digging into my muscle. In my past life, that grip would have terrified me into compliance. Today, it merely triggered the predator instinct locked inside my soul.

I spun around, my left hand snapping upward to strike the pressure point on his wrist. His grip broke instantly with a pained gasp. Before he could recover, I reached out and touched the heavy gold chain hanging around his neck—a chain I had bought him for his twenty-fifth birthday.

Swish.

The chain vanished from his neck into my spatial void.

Julian blinked, clutching his bare collarbone in total confusion. "What... where did my chain go?!"

"Don't touch me again," I warned, stepping into the hallway.

I reached the spare room first—Chloe’s room. The door was half-open. On the bed lay a sleek leather tote bag overflowing with high-end designer cosmetics, silk scarves, and a pile of luxury clothes—all purchased over the last six months using my supplementary credit card.

Brenda and Chloe rushed down the hall behind me. "Get out of her room, you crazy freak!" Brenda yelled.

I didn't answer. I stepped into the room, extended my hand, and swept my palm across the bed, the open closet, and the vanity table.

Swish. Swish. Swish.

In less than three seconds, every single piece of designer clothing, every bottle of expensive perfume, the leather tote, and Chloe's entire stash of imported jewelry vanished cleanly into the pitch-black void of my spatial dimension. The closet was left completely bare, save for a few empty plastic hangers clattering against the rod.

Chloe let out a blood-curdling scream. "MY BAGS! MY CLOTHES! WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY STUFF?!"

"What stuff?" I asked, turning around with an innocent, empty expression. "There's nothing in here."

"You... you wizard! You stole them!" Brenda gasped, backing away in sheer horror, pointing a trembling finger at me. "Julian! She’s using black magic! Call the police!"

Before Julian could even reach for his phone, a heavy knock echoed from the front door.

Everyone froze.

I pushed past the stunned, terrified family, walked back into the living room, and opened the door. Standing on the porch was a tall man in a tailored charcoal suit holding a thick Manila envelope, flanked by two uniformed police officers.

"Julian Morley?" the process server asked smoothly.

Julian stumbled into the living room, pale as a sheet. "Yes?"

"You've been formally served," the man said, thrusting the envelope into Julian's chest. "You are hereby ordered to vacate the premises at 142 Maple Street within forty-eight hours under a temporary domestic protection order filed by Mrs. Clara Morley. Furthermore, all marital assets are frozen pending litigation."

One of the police officers stepped forward, his hand resting casually on his utility belt as his eyes scanned the chaotic living room. "Mr. Morley, we received a report of domestic disturbance and unauthorized financial access at this address. You have forty-eight hours to pack your personal effects. If you attempt to contact or intimidate Mrs. Morley, you will be arrested on sight."

Brenda collapsed onto the sofa, wailing hysterically. "Officer! She stole Chloe's dresses! She made them disappear into thin air!"

The officer gave Brenda a look reserved for the clinically insane. "Ma'am, please calm down."

Julian stood frozen in the middle of the room, holding the divorce papers, his jaw trembling as he looked from the police officers to me. For the first time since I had met him, his arrogant veneer was completely shattered.

I picked up my grandmother’s wooden jewelry chest from the hallway table, tucked it under my arm, and walked past him toward the door.

As I crossed the threshold into the afternoon sunlight, I leaned in close to Julian’s ear, my voice a deadly, quiet whisper:

"Pack your bags, Julian. You wanted this house so badly... let's see how much you like it when winter comes."