#004 Evelyn Begins Building Her Doomsday Fortress

~ Evelyn.

The rental car rolled to a smooth stop in front of a premier real estate firm situated right in the upscale neighborhood where my former in laws lived. Mallory Avenue was a pristine sanctuary of wealth, lined with manicured lawns and towering oak trees.

I pushed open the glass doors, my mind entirely focused on my objective. I did not come here to browse or compare prices. I walked straight up to the main desk, bypassed the waiting lounge, and asked for the senior managing partner.

Within minutes, I was seated in a private office across from a sharply dressed agent named Bradley. He blinked in surprise when I slid my identification across the polished mahogany table and named the property I wanted.

"The Mallory estate?" Bradley asked, adjusting his tie with a nervous frown. "Are you certain, Miss Evelyn? That is a massive three story luxury villa listed at one point two million dollars. It has been sitting on the market for months because of its unusual structural setup and eccentric owner."

"I know everything about it," I replied smoothly, leaning back in my leather chair. "I want to buy it today. Full cash payment."

Bradley stared at me as if I had lost my mind. In my past life before I was poisoned, I would have hesitated at such a staggering sum. But now, sitting on forty five million dollars of lottery winnings with an apocalypse looming in eighty days, one million dollars was merely pocket change for my survival.

I did not waste a single minute on price negotiations. I transferred a heavy cash deposit on the spot, signing the acquisition papers before Bradley could even catch his breath.

"I want the keys immediately," I instructed, standing up and smoothing down my skirt. "I am sending a construction crew there this afternoon."

An hour later, I stood inside the grand, empty halls of the villa. The high vaulted ceilings and marble floors echoed with the sound of my footsteps. As I gazed out the massive arched windows overlooking the private courtyard, a strange sense of surrealism washed over me.

In my original world, I had been murdered by the poisoned wine my fiancé poured for me on our anniversary. Here I was, trapped inside the pages of a web novel, using my reader knowledge of the plot to build a sanctuary against an impending global freezing disaster. Life truly had a wicked sense of humor. But I had no time to dwell on the irony. Survival required speed.

I pulled out my phone and contacted the most aggressive high end renovation company in the city.

By mid afternoon, the lead contractor, a rugged man named Noel, met me at the villa. He walked through the spacious rooms with a clipboard, shaking his head as I laid out my specifications.

"You want what?" Noel asked, blinking in disbelief.

"You heard me," I said, my voice leaving no room for argument. "Normal residential structures will crumble when the climate collapses. I want double layer steel security shutters installed over every single window. I want military grade thermal wall insulation packed into every exterior wall. I need massive underground fuel tanks installed beneath the basement, and every entry point must be fitted with reinforced impact doors."

Noel rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a heavy sigh. "Miss Evelyn, do you have any idea what you are asking for? This is not a standard home remodeling project. This is a military bunker disguised as a mansion. To do all of this properly will take at least half a year."

I did not blink. I reached into my bag, pulled out a blank check, and slid it across the kitchen island toward him.

"I do not have half a year, Noel," I said quietly. "I have forty five days. If you can mobilize your crews right now and finish every single detail of this renovation within that exact timeframe, I will double your asking price as a cash bonus."

Noel stared at the check, then up at my face. The hesitation vanished from his eyes, replaced by the greedy gleam of a professional contractor presented with an impossible payday.

"Consider it done," Noel said, snatching the check. "We start tearing into the walls in one hour."

True to his word, the very next morning, heavy machinery and demolition crews swarmed the property. The sound of sledgehammers and drills echoed down Mallory Avenue as workers began tearing out the drywall and reinforcing the foundation.

News of my absurd wealth and sudden real estate acquisition spread through the local community like wildfire. It did not take long for the gossip to ripple straight back to the Gantt household. A nosy neighbor who lived down the street from my former in laws happened to drive past the Mallory estate, spotted me stepping out of my rental car, and promptly carried the tale over.

I could easily picture the absolute pandemonium it caused. By evening, word reached me through local neighborhood chatter that Arthur had locked himself in his room, refusing to answer the front door, while Max paced their cramped hallway in a blind panic because his luxury wedding plans were officially collapsing into dust.

They were finally forced to confront a horrifying reality. The quiet, helpless woman they had exploited and abused for years was not just gone. She was sitting on a mountain of wealth they could never touch, building a fortress right down the street while their own lives fell apart.