Chapter 2 - The Empty Kingdom
At 3:15 PM, the lock on the apartment door clicked open. Derek walked in, holding the door for his younger sister, Suzanne.
Suzanne was practically bouncing on her heels. She wore designer sunglasses indoors, a habit she had picked up to look wealthy, though everything she wore was either bought on maxed-out credit cards or funded by Skylar’s hard-earned salary.
“I still don’t know why she had to be such a drama queen about it,” Suzanne complained, tossing her oversized fake-leather bag onto the entryway bench. “It’s just a temporary loan. I have to pay the event planner by five, or I lose the deposit for my birthday yacht party. She has thousands just sitting in her savings.”
“She’s learning her place,” Derek said smoothly, unbuttoning his suit jacket. “I set her straight this morning. She’ll have the card ready for you. Just remember to grab the Prada handbag on your way out. She needs to know there are consequences for disrespecting you.”
They walked into the living room, expecting to find Skylar sitting on the sofa, thoroughly defeated and ready to comply.
But the apartment was silent.
“Skylar?” Derek called out. His voice echoed slightly off the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bay. No answer.
Frowning, Derek marched into the kitchen. The morning sun had shifted, casting long shadows across the floor. He stopped dead in his tracks.
The broken pieces of the ceramic cup were still scattered exactly where they had shattered against the wall. The dried brown coffee stain streaked down the paint like dried blood. She hadn't cleaned it up.
“Where is she?” Suzanne whined from the hallway. “Derek, if she went to work and took her card with her, I’m going to kill her. The planner is going to cancel on me!”
Derek didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on the kitchen island.
Sitting in the exact center of the pristine white marble counter was a single piece of paper. Resting on top of it, catching the afternoon light, was Skylar’s diamond wedding ring.
Derek’s chest tightened. He stepped closer, his pulse suddenly thumping in his ears.
He snatched the paper from beneath the ring. It wasn’t a heartfelt apology. It wasn’t a desperate plea for forgiveness.
It was a photocopy of the property deed.
The document clearly showed the sole owner of the property: Skylar Bennett. Not Skylar Foster. She had never changed her name on the deed, and she had never added him to it. Below the deed was a printed screenshot of Florida state law regarding pre-marital assets and sole property ownership, specifically highlighting the section about eviction of non-titled occupants.
At the very bottom, written in Skylar’s neat, steady handwriting, were three sentences:
You told me to leave your house. I am taking my ring, my money, and my life back. My lawyer will contact you regarding when you need to vacate MY property.
“Derek!” Suzanne stomped into the kitchen, her face twisted in annoyance. “Did she leave the card or not? Why are you just standing there?”
She looked from Derek’s pale face to the broken cup on the floor, then to the wedding ring on the counter. The smug, entitled smile that usually lived on Suzanne's face instantly evaporated.
“What is that?” Suzanne asked, her voice dropping.
“She left,” Derek whispered, the reality crashing down on him.
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“Well, call her and tell her to come back!” Suzanne shrieked. “My payment, Derek! You promised me! You said you had her under control!”
Derek stared at the ring. The absolute control he thought he had wielded just hours ago had vanished, replaced by a cold, creeping dread. The paper in his hand felt like a death warrant for the lavish lifestyle he had grown so accustomed to. Skylar hadn't just walked out; she had declared war.
