Chapter 2

I glanced at Mark. "There won't be a next time."

Just then, the doorbell rang. Eric was standing outside with a photographer. "Mr. Scott, we're here to take photos for the listing."

Claire's face changed instantly. "What listing?"

"I'm putting the house up for sale," I replied calmly.

She grabbed my arm. "Andrew Scott, have you lost your mind? We just finished renovating this place, and you're selling it?"

I pulled my arm free. "It's my house."

"But I did all the renovation!" Her voice rose sharply. "I spent an entire year on this. I designed everything, picked out all the materials, and put my heart into every detail."

I looked around the house.

Four matching pairs of slippers sat in the entryway cabinet. A huge photo hung in the center of the living room, showing Claire and her three childhood friends posing in front of a snowy mountain.

The bookshelves I'd picked out for the study had been removed and replaced with a backdrop for livestreams.

The patio space I'd set aside for my late dad's belongings had been turned into a barbecue station and camping area.

Even half the walk-in closet in the master bedroom was filled with matching jackets for the four of them.

I had lived there for three months, but I could barely find anything that was actually mine.

"Oh, really?" I asked. "Did you design our future home or a private clubhouse for the four of you?"

Claire froze for a second, then frowned. "They're my closest friends, so of course they're going to come over a lot. You're going to marry me. Can't you accept that they're part of my life?"

There it was again. Whenever I complained, she'd turn it back on me and say I was being selfish.

When Terry borrowed my car, she said friends shouldn't keep score. When Mark brought his friends over to play video games all night, she said it was no big deal. When Wayne popped open a bottle from my wine collection, she said alcohol was bought to be drunk anyway.

Yet when I wanted to use my own study, Terry was always livestreaming in there. When I wanted to relax on the patio, they said I was getting in the way.

And last night, when I wanted to come back to my own house, they wouldn't let me in.

I stepped aside to let Eric in.

"You have 48 hours to pack your stuff. Anything left behind after that will be treated as abandoned property," I told the four of them.

When Eric reached the study, he paused. "Mr. Scott, it looks like a business is registered at this address."

He pointed to an acrylic plaque mounted on the wall that read "Flow Media", with my address printed underneath it.

I walked over and stared at it. It was the first time I'd realized that Terry's company was officially registered at my address.

"It just made livestreaming easier," Terry said dismissively. "It's not like I'm actually running a business here."

Eric shook his head. "Having a business registered at a residential address is a serious issue. You'll need to get that cleared up before we can list the property."

I pulled out my phone and took a photo of the plaque.

The smile finally faded from Terry's face. "Andrew, don't make this so serious. We're going to be family eventually. What's the big deal about borrowing your address for a bit?"

"Who said we're family?" I shot back.

Terry froze.

Claire immediately stepped in front of him. "Andrew, if you're angry, take it out on me. I was the one who let him use the address."

I nodded. "Alright then, we'll deal with it together."