She walked to the door and pressed the intercom. “The card isn’t working because I deactivated the entire old system.”
“Are you losing your mind?” Simon shouted through the wood. “Open this door right now before I lose my temper.”
“Neither of you is coming inside tonight,” Valerie replied firmly.
“Valerie!” Beverly shrieked in the background. “I am an elderly woman, and I will not be forced to sleep in a public corridor!”
“You should have considered your sleeping arrangements before you tried to move into a house that doesn’t belong to you,” Valerie said.
Simon slammed his fist against the frame. “This is my home too! I am ordering you to let us in!”
Valerie actually felt a wave of relief when she heard him use the word “ordering” because it proved she was making the right choice. “We can talk tomorrow, Simon, but it won’t be in my living room.”
She silenced the intercom, walked into her bedroom, and enjoyed the quietest night of sleep she had experienced in years.
By 6 a.m., she was dressed in a sharp charcoal blazer and slacks, looking every bit like the high-stakes auditor she was. She poured herself a fresh coffee and waited for the inevitable return of the chaos.
The sound of a power drill grinding against the new lock echoed through the apartment a few minutes later. Valerie looked at her security feed and saw Simon trying to force the door while Beverly filmed the scene with her phone.
“I’m going to tell everyone how abusive you are!” Beverly yelled at the camera.
Valerie walked to the door, placed her thumb on the scanner, and watched the heavy bolt slide back. When the door swung open, Simon nearly tumbled into the foyer, still clutching a cordless drill.
“You are going to regret this,” Simon hissed, his face red from lack of sleep. “I’m calling a lawyer. You can’t just evict your husband without a court order.”
Valerie simply pointed to the kitchen island. “Read the documents in the envelope, Simon.”
“I don’t care about your letters!” he snapped.
“It’s not a letter; it’s a deed of ownership,” Valerie corrected him.
Simon ripped the envelope open while Beverly hovered over his shoulder. “What is V.M. Holdings LLC?” he asked, his voice suddenly losing its edge.
“That is the corporation I formed years before I met you,” Valerie explained. “This penthouse is owned by that entity, and I am the sole shareholder.”