Chapter 14: The Final Lock

THE HEIRESS'S COLD REVENGE

The taxi Julian boarded dropped him off three blocks away from Sarah’s old apartment because he only had enough loose change in his pocket to cover the fare that far. He had to walk the rest of the way, his designer shoes were now scuffed and his pride, a jagged ruin. 

As he walked, he could not help but bury his head in shame. He had been the same one who had drove luxurious cars into the estate, but now, he was trekking and staggering like a drunk in the place he had once visited in secret to bring Sarah expensive gifts. Now, it was his only hope for a roof over his head.

Eventually getting to the modest brick walk-up house, he stopped by the front stoop and fumbled for the spare key Sarah had given him months ago. He jammed it into the lock, twisting with desperate force and frustration.

It didn't turn.

He tried again, this time, his breath was coming in ragged gasps. He kicked the door once, twice, the sound echoing through the quiet street. "Sarah! Open the door!"

"What games are you trying to play? I have had enough to last me the rest of my not so miserable life. I do not need this right now!" He continued to yell.

A thick voice from behind said. "The locks were changed at noon, Mr. Thorne."

Julian spun around, only to see two men in dark suits standing on the sidewalk. They weren't police officers; they wore the silver eagle pin of Sterling Global Security. One of them held a thick manila envelope.

"What are you doing here?" Julian demanded, backing into the door. "This is private property."

"Actually, this is a Blackwood property," the guard replied, his firm voice devoid of emotion. "The lease for this unit was held by a subsidiary of the Vance Group. When the Vance Group defaulted on their morning interest payments to the Blackwood Trust, all their residential leases were seized. This apartment is currently being cleared for a new tenant."

"I don't care about the lease! I don't care about the Blackwood or their properties! All I need to see right now is Sarah!"

The guard stepped forward and handed him the envelope. "Then this is for you." 

Julian’s hands shook as he tore it open. It wasn't a letter from Sarah. It was a formal Restraining Order and a Notice of Total Asset Forfeiture.

" What is this?" He chuckled dryly, looking at the men.

"That is a formal way of telling you that Ms. Vance has signed a sworn statement," the guard continued. "She claims you coerced her into the affair by threatening her with some private information and that you also used her pregnancy to manipulate her father’s business dealings just so your stocks would plummet."

"And you expect me to believe this nonsense you are spewing? Everyone knows about Sarah and I. Did that look like a relationship made out of threats and coercion to you?" Julian laughed hysterically.

The guard continued. "Under the terms of her Protection Agreement with Elena Blackwood, you are barred from contacting her, her father, or approaching them within five hundred feet of any Vance or Blackwood property."

Julian felt the world go cold, he felt the earth turning.

Sarah hadn't just left him; she had traded him for a chance to stay in Elena’s good graces. She had handed Elena, the press and Board of Directors the weapon she needed to finish him off.

"Where is she?" Julian whispered, the papers slipping from his numb fingers and fluttering onto the dirty pavement. "I need to see her, I need her to tell me this herself."

"She is currently being moved away to a private medical facility for her prenatal care," the guard said, turning to walk back to their idling SUV. "A facility funded entirely by the Blackwood Trust. And you, Julian, you are not on the visitor list."

Julian stood alone on the stoop of the locked building. He looked down at the sonogram photo he had snatched from the penthouse before being kicked out. It was crumpled and stained. 

He realized then that the child: the Thorne heir, would grow up in a world where the name "Thorne" meant nothing, and the woman he had called a charity project was the one who decided if he even got to eat dinner tonight.

Across the street, a black sedan pulled away from the curb. He didn't need to see the passenger to know who was behind the glass.

Elena was done watching. She had already moved on to the next phase of the war.