THE SEVENTY-TWO-HOUR TAKEOVER: HOW MY UNGRATEFUL HUSBAND LOCKED ME OUT OF MY OWN MANSION WITH A THREE-DAY-OLD BABY, ONLY TO DISCOVER I SOLD IT FOR ALL CASH

Back inside the silver Mercedes SUV, Wendy and Stephanie had rolled down their windows to see what was taking Luca so long.

They had watched the exchange with the security guard, but because they hadn't heard the specific words, they assumed Luca was simply sorting out a minor technical glitch with the gate system.

When Luca slowly walked back down the driveway, looking like a man who had just survived a physical train wreck, Wendy opened her door and stepped out onto the gravel.

“Luca, darling, what is taking so long?” Wendy asked, smoothing down her designer blouse. “Are we going inside or not? I have a splitting headache from the flight and I want to lie down in the master suite.”

Luca stood beside the driver’s side door, holding the manila envelope and the white storage unit business card in his limp hands. He looked at his mother, then at his sister, his face completely drained of color.

“We... we can't go inside, Mom,” Luca whispered, his voice shaking.

Stephanie frowned, stepping out of the car as well. “What do you mean we can't go inside? Did she change the locks again? Just call a locksmith, Luca! Remind her who wears the pants in this family.”

“She didn't change the locks, Stephanie,” Luca said, his voice rising into a panicked, frantic shriek. “She sold the fucking house! To a billionaire venture capitalist! The house is gone! We don't live here anymore!”

A heavy, stunned silence crashed down upon the trio standing on the side of Redwood Crest Drive.

Wendy’s jaw dropped open. Her sunglasses slipped down her nose, catching on the tip before falling onto the gravel below with a sharp clack.

“Sold?” Wendy shrieked, her voice reaching an octave normally reserved for opera singers in distress. “What do you mean she sold it?! That’s our house! That’s the Hails family estate! She can't sell our home without our permission!”

“She didn't need our permission, Mom!” Luca yelled back, tears of humiliation and blind rage finally spilling over his eyelashes. “The prenuptial agreement! She owned the property before we were even married! She had sole title! We have nothing!”

Stephanie grabbed her head with both hands, staring at the wrought-iron gates in sheer disbelief. “Are you telling me we’re homeless? Where are our clothes? Where are my designer bags? Where are my art pieces from the foyer?!”