Chapter 10 - The Falling Kingdom
At 9:00 PM on Friday night, a brutal Arctic blizzard swept across Lake Forest.
The wind wailed through the towering pine trees, driving sheets of white snow against the limestone facade of the Mercer estate.
Grant’s black Range Rover came roaring through the open gates, its tires fishtailing dangerously on the unplowed driveway.
He had spent eight hours in emergency board meetings, watching his directors turn on him one by one.
His corporate phone had been deactivated at 6:30 PM by order of the independent compliance monitor.
His executive email access had been severed.
His personal credit cards had been declined when he tried to pay for gas on the drive home.
He needed to get into his home office.
He needed to access the private safe behind the mahogany paneling where he kept three million dollars in bearer bonds and bearer gold certificates.
He slammed the SUV into park directly in front of the main entrance, leaving the engine running and the headlights blazing.
He charged up the heated limestone steps, snow whipping into his eyes.
He pressed his right thumb against the biometric scanner of the front door.
The scanner flashed bright red.
A metallic mechanical voice spoke from the intercom panel:
"Access Denied. User authorization revoked by primary account holder."
Grant pounded his fist against the heavy bronze door with a fury that shook the frame.
"Natalie!" he screamed into the storm.
"Open this goddamn door!"
"Natalie!"
A moment later, the exterior floodlights flared to blinding brightness, illuminating the entire front terrace.
The heavy interior lock clicked.
The door swung open six inches, held securely by a heavy steel security chain.
Standing in the warm amber light of the foyer was Marcus, Grant’s personal security driver.
Marcus was not wearing his corporate uniform.
He was wearing plain clothes, looking at Grant with total, unapologetic indifference.
"Marcus?" Grant gasped, his eyes wild with disbelief.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Take that chain off and open this door immediately!"
"I don't work for you anymore, Mr. Mercer," Marcus said calmly through the gap.
"Mrs. Mercer settled my back pay and hired my private security firm to secure the premises under court order."
"She can't do that!" Grant yelled, trying to shove his shoulder against the door.
"This is my house!"
"My name is on the deed!"
"The Chancery Court awarded exclusive temporary possession of the marital residence to Mrs. Mercer at four o'clock this afternoon," Julian Reed’s voice sounded from behind Marcus.
Julian stepped into view, holding a signed court order against the glass panel.
"You have been granted seventy-two hours to retrieve your personal clothing and basic effects, Grant."
"All corporate files, digital drives, and safe contents are impounded under court supervision pending the forensic audit."
Grant’s face turned an ugly shade of purple.
"You think you can lock me out of my own home?"
"Where is she?"
"Let me speak to my wife!"
The interior shadow shifted.
Natalie walked into the center of the foyer, leaning lightly on a wooden cane.
She was wearing a thick black turtleneck sweater, her dark hair falling naturally over her shoulders.
The swelling around her eye had begun to fade into a dull yellow, but the twelve black sutures remained, a permanent badge of survival.
She looked at her husband through the opening of the door.
She did not look angry.
She did not look vengeful.
She looked at him with the chilling, absolute indifference one reserves for a stranger on a crowded subway.
"Grant," she said softly.
"Natalie, please," Grant pleaded, his voice cracking against the freezing wind.
"Listen to me."
"Victoria went to Arthur."
"The merger is falling apart."
"The board is trying to force me out."
"If we don't present a united front to the press on Monday morning, we will lose everything."
"Everything we built for fourteen years will be wiped out!"
Natalie took one slow, deliberate step closer to the threshold.
"We didn't build this together, Grant."
"You told me that yourself two nights ago."
"You told me I was just a housewife who decorated the rooms and spent your money."
"You told me you built an international empire all by yourself."
"I was angry, Nat!" Grant shouted, tears of rage and panic freezing on his cheeks.
"I didn't mean it!"
"I was under immense pressure!"
"I made a mistake with Victoria, but I will end it tonight!"
"I will never see her again!"
"I swear on my life, Natalie, I will do whatever you want!"
Natalie looked past him, into the swirling darkness of the blizzard.
"Two nights ago, I was sitting in a wheelchair with broken ribs, Grant."
"I asked you to come get me."
"And you told me to order a cab."
She reached out and rested her hand gently on the door frame.
"There are three cardboard boxes waiting for you beside the garage."
"Marcus packed your clothes and your toiletries."
"Have the desk call you a cab, Grant."
"I’ll see you in court."
Natalie nodded gently to Marcus.
Marcus closed the heavy bronze door.
The heavy steel deadbolts slammed home with three loud, definitive thuds that echoed through the freezing night.
Grant Mercer stood alone on the snow-covered terrace.
May you like
The wind howled through the trees, tearing through his expensive suit jacket.
Behind him, the headlights of his Range Rover flickered and died as the engine finally sputtered out in the freezing cold.
