Julianne’s laugh was abruptly severed by the heavy crunch of gravel. A sleek black SUV tore up the driveway, halting aggressively just inches from Maya’s scattered boxes.
Marcus sneered, crossing his arms as he glared at the vehicle. “Who’s that? Coming to beg for your trash?”
The SUV door swung open. A sharp-eyed man in a dark tailored suit stepped out, a black leather folder gripped firmly in his hand. He bypassed the granite steps entirely, marching straight to Maya and taking his place at her shoulder like a soldier reporting to a general.
He snapped the folder open. “I represent the legal owner,” the man declared, his voice echoing like a judge’s gavel off the limestone facade. He leveled a steady, uncompromising finger at Marcus and Julianne. “You have exactly ten minutes to leave *her* property.”
Julianne’s arrogant mask slipped. “Nonsense! Marcus signed the deed. We own Blackwood!”
“You own the *house*,” Maya corrected, a lethal smirk finally breaking her calm facade. She knelt, picking up one of the architectural schematics they had thrown in the dirt. “You forged the structural deed perfectly, Marcus. But you never bothered to read the blueprints. My grandfather split the estate’s titles fifty years ago.”
Maya tapped the worn paper. “You stole the bricks. But I own the *dirt* beneath it. The foundation.”
The lawyer checked his watch. “As per state laws regarding unauthorized, unlawfully occupied structures on private land, my client has approved an immediate demolition. The bulldozers arrive in nine minutes. Anything left inside becomes rubble.”
Dead silence fell over the steps. The mocking smiles vanished, replaced by sheer, suffocating panic. They hadn’t conquered a fortress; they had trapped themselves in Maya’s demolition zone.
Maya tilted her head, her eyes flashing with absolute victory. “Tick tock.”