THE LAST FEAST: HOW MY HUSBAND’S PARASITIC FAMILY LEARNED THE TRUE COST OF CRUELTY

Back at the apartment, the morning sun poured through the windows, illuminating the remnants of last night’s lobster shells and empty wine bottles still sitting unwashed on the dining table.

Carmen woke up with her usual routine of demanding luxury. She shuffled out of her bedroom in her silk bathrobe, expecting fresh-brewed gourmet coffee and a spread of pastries waiting for her in the kitchen. Instead, she found the kitchen silent and the coffee machine completely dead.

"Daniel!" Carmen barked, her voice echoing through the apartment. "Why is there no coffee? And where is my heating pad?"

Daniel stumbled out of the master bedroom, rubbing his eyes, clutching his phone with a frown of utter confusion. "I don't know, Mom. My card wouldn't go through at the gas station this morning either. It said 'Card Declined - Issuer Restriction'. I thought it was just a glitch."

Valeria walked out of the guest room, scrolling through her phone with a look of mounting panic. "Guys... my Instagram shopping cart won't process. And my gym membership app says payment failed. What is going on?"

Panic, subtle at first, began to ripple through the apartment.

Daniel tried calling my phone, only to hear the automated carrier tone indicating his calls were not going through. He tried calling again, growing increasingly agitated. "She blocked me? Why would she block me over a minor argument about a child?"

"Call her office!" Carmen snapped, crossing her arms. "Tell her that her mother-in-law demands an apology for this disrespect. And tell her my thirty-five thousand pesos are late. Today is the fifth of the month; I have hair appointments and social club dues to pay!"

Daniel dialed my corporate office line, his fingers shaking slightly as reality began to claw its way through his dense ego.

When the corporate receptionist picked up, Daniel forced his most charming tone. "Hello, yes, I’m trying to reach Mariana Vance in regional marketing. This is her husband." "I'm sorry, sir," the receptionist replied coolly. "Mrs. Vance is currently in a closed-door executive meeting and cannot take personal calls. Is there a message?" "Yes, tell her urgent family business—" "Sir, Mrs. Vance’s executive assistant has explicitly noted that all personal calls from your number are to be redirected to her legal counsel. Have a nice day." Click.

Daniel lowered the phone from his ear, his face turning pale. "Legal counsel? She... she talked about legal counsel?"

Before anyone could process his words, a sharp, authoritative knock echoed loudly at the front door.

Valeria jumped. "Are those the groceries we ordered online?" "We didn't order groceries, your cards are declined," Daniel muttered, walking slowly toward the door.

He pulled the heavy wooden door open, expecting a delivery driver or perhaps a neighbor. Instead, standing in the hallway were two professional-looking bailiffs dressed in sharp dark suits, flanked by a court-certified process server holding a thick stack of official documents.

"Are you Daniel Vance?" the lead officer asked, his voice devoid of emotion. Daniel swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the door. "Yes... I am. Who are you?"

The officer stepped forward, thrusting the heavy legal packet directly into Daniel’s chest, forcing him to catch it or let it hit the floor.

"You have been officially served with a petition for divorce, an immediate asset injunction, a financial restraining order, and a notice of eviction from this property, which is legally registered solely under Mariana Vance," the officer recited smoothly. "You and all secondary occupants have forty-eight hours to vacate the premises. All unauthorized financial access has been terminated by court order."

The hallway went completely silent.

Behind Daniel, Carmen let out a shrill gasp, clutching her chest as if she had been physically struck. "Eviction?! Divorce?! Over a piece of bread?! She can't do that! We live here! This is our family!"