I took a step back, out of her reach, looking down at her with zero pity.
“The Oakidge house is currently listed for sale with my broker. A corporate developer bought it yesterday for $950,000. The demolition team arrives in 30 days to clear the lot.”
My father gasped, clutching his chest as if he had been struck by lightning.
“Demolition? You sold your mother’s house?”
“I sold my house, Dad,” I corrected him firmly. “My mother wanted me to have a secure future. Selling that property funded my investments here and secured my complete financial freedom.”
“Your 30-day notice stands. I suggest you use that time to find an apartment you can actually afford.”
I pressed a button on my smart home panel near the door.
Two private security guards whom I had hired for my property stepped out from the side entrance.
“Security will escort you off my property now. Do not come back.”
My father and stepmother stared at me in total defeat.
They realized there were no more leverage points, no more guilt trips, and no more second chances.
The guards firmly guided them down the porch steps and back to their car.
As Brenda wept hysterically, and my father stumbled like a broken man, the legal process moved forward with relentless precision.
Unable to stop the eviction or afford legal representation, Richard, Brenda, and Vanessa were forced to pack their belongings and vacate the Oakidge house before the court deadline.