Chapter 136
Chapter 136:
She opened the door a crack. Two large men in uniforms and a woman in a severe grey suit stood there. The woman held a clipboard.
“Ms. Miller,” the woman said, not asking. “This is an immediate eviction notice. The leaseholder, Mr. Kensington, has terminated the agreement effective immediately due to breach of contract and illicit substance use on the premises. You have one hour to vacate p>
“Eviction?” Seraphina laughed, a high-pitched, nervous sound. “Do you know who I am? Liam Kensington pays for this apartment! He said I could stay until the end of the month! You can’t evict me. I’ll call him right now and have you all fired p>
The woman didn’t blink. She held out a cellphone. “Mr. Kensington is on the line. He wishes to speak with you p>
Seraphina grabbed the phone, relief flooding her chest. She put on her best crying voice instantly.
“Liam!” she wailed. “These people are harassing me! They’re saying p>
“Get out, Seraphina p>
Liam’s voice was unrecognizable. It wasn’t the voice of the man who had loved her. It wasn’t even the voice of the man who had been angry at her. It was the voice of a dead man—cold, flat, final.
“Liam?” She faltered. “But… I love you! I did everything because I love you! Why are you doing this p>
“You drugged me,” Liam said. “You tried to turn me into a rapist. You are a cancer, Seraphina. I am cutting you out p>
“But I have nowhere to go!” she shrieked. “My mother… the debts p>
“Don’t ever contact me again,” Liam said. “If you come near me, or Skye, I will hand over the toxicology report from that night to the police.” Click.
The line went dead.
Seraphina stared at the phone. The woman in the suit took it back calmly.
“One hour,” the woman repeated. “Or we call the police for trespassing p>
𝘑𝗈𝗶𝘯 𝘵hе 𝗰𝘰𝗺𝗆𝗎𝗇𝗂𝘵у a𝘁 𝖻еlոо𝘃el𝘀.𝗰om
The movers—if you could call them that—didn’t bring boxes. They brought heavy-duty garbage bags. They started sweeping her clothes, her shoes, her expensive creams off the vanity, dumping them into black plastic sacks.
“Careful! That’s silk!” Seraphina screamed, grabbing a vase to throw at them.
One of the security guards simply plucked the vase from her hand and set it down out of reach. “Ma’am. Don’t make this physical p>
Forty-five minutes later, Seraphina stood on the sidewalk.
It was raining again. Of course it was.
Three rolling suitcases and four black garbage bags were piled around her feet. She was wearing a trench coat over her pajamas because she hadn’t had time to change. Her hair, usually a perfect blowout, frizzed instantly in the humidity.
She tried to hail a cab, but she had no cash. Her Uber app was linked to the frozen cards.
Passersby walked around her, giving her a wide berth. They looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and disgust—a fallen woman surrounded by trash bags on a wet street corner.
She dragged her luggage down the block, her heels scraping uselessly against the pavement. Three blocks away, she found a motel: the Starlight Motel. It had a flickering neon sign and bars on the windows.
The clerk behind the bulletproof glass sneered at her wet designer coat.