The heavy iron gates didn’t just open for Lionel Ashford’s black Rolls-Royce; the estate’s security system had already been permanently overridden by his team. Adrian’s smug sneer melted into absolute terror as the legendary billionaire stepped into the freezing downpour, shielded by a bodyguard’s massive umbrella.
“Mr. Ashford!” Adrian stammered, abandoning his mistress and rushing to the edge of the sheltered marble steps. “There’s a massive misunderstanding. Claire was just—”
“Evicted?” Lionel interrupted, his voice cutting through the heavy rain like shattered glass. “No, Adrian. *You* are.”
Adrian choked on a nervous laugh. “But… this is my house.”
“Check the deed,” Claire said, stepping out of the mud and under her father’s umbrella. Her soaked golden silk dress clung to her, but her posture was pure royalty. “The Ashford Trust owns the property. Your venture capital firm? A shell company funded entirely by my trust fund. A loan that, as of thirty seconds ago, is in catastrophic default.”
The mistress, clutching the heavy diamond necklace, took a panicked step back. “Adrian, what is she talking about? You said you were rich!”
“Take the necklace off,” Lionel commanded, snapping his fingers. Two burly men in black suits marched up the stairs. “In fact, take the dress off, too. My daughter paid for it.”
Adrian immediately shoved his mistress forward. “Take it off! Give it to them!” he hissed, ruthlessly throwing her under the bus to save his own skin. She let out a piercing shriek of betrayal, clutching her chest in horror.
“Don’t stop there, Adrian,” Claire smiled, her eyes flashing with lethal satisfaction. “That tuxedo is on my American Express. I want it back. Now.”
Within three minutes, Adrian Vale and his mistress were shivering barefoot in the freezing mud, stripped to their underwear. Claire walked through her grand front doors, the diamond necklace cold in her hand, and bolted the locks, leaving them to drown in the storm.