Chapter 4 - The Locked Gates
It took two hours, two bus transfers, and a humiliating forty-minute walk in the freezing November wind for Jasper, Gillian, and Chloe to reach the gated suburban neighborhood where Jasper and I lived.
Gillian’s expensive heels were ruined, her hair was wild from the wind, and Chloe was crying openly from exhaustion and cold.
Jasper walked three paces ahead of them, his mind spiraling through every conversation he had ever had with me.
He remembered how I had never asked for expensive jewelry. He remembered how I had smiled when he brought home cheap takeout, saying all she cared about was being together. He remembered how he had slowly pushed me away, demanding that I cook elaborate meals for his family, telling me I was lucky he was building a future for us.
He had believed he was the king. He had believed he was the provider.
When they finally turned the corner onto our street, Jasper stopped dead in his tracks.
Parked outside our two-story modern house were three massive black moving vans.
A team of eight men in gray uniforms were methodically carrying furniture out of the front door and loading it into the back of the trucks. They weren't moving things in. They were stripping the house bare.
"HEY! HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Jasper screamed, breaking into a frantic run down the driveway. "STOP! THAT'S MY HOUSE! THAT'S MY FURNITURE!"
He reached the front porch, but two burly men in tactical black vests stepped into his path, blocking the entrance.
"Stand back, sir," one of the guards said in a heavy, uncompromising voice.
"Get out of my way!" Jasper roared, trying to push past them. "I live here! This is my property!"
A man in a sleek grey suit stepped out of the front door holding an electronic tablet and a thick leather folder. It was Arthur Vance—my father’s senior legal strategist (no relation to Jasper, despite the shared surname, a irony Arthur deeply enjoyed).
"Mr. Jasper Vance, I presume?" Arthur asked smoothly, looking down at Jasper over his gold-rimmed reading glasses.
"Who the hell are you?!" Jasper gasped, out of breath, his face bright red. "Why are you taking my furniture?! Where is my wife?!"
"Your wife, Hailey Robertson, is currently resting at a secure private residence under the care of specialized medical staff," Arthur replied calmly. "As for the house..."
Arthur tapped his tablet, pulling up a legal document.
"This property is owned outright by the Robertson Family Revocable Trust. The residential lease agreement under which you resided here was contingent upon your marriage remaining in good standing with the primary beneficiary—namely, Mrs. Hailey Robertson."
"We are married!" Jasper screamed. "She is my wife! She had my baby five days ago!"
"And five days ago, you left her on the side of a public road with an open surgical wound and twenty dollars while you drove away in a corporate asset to eat steak," Arthur said, his tone dropping into a icy precision that made Jasper’s jaw snap shut. "Effective 1:00 PM today, Mrs. Robertson has filed for emergency legal separation on the grounds of severe spousal neglect, cruelty, and financial malfeasance."
Gillian and Chloe finally caught up, panting heavily as they reached the porch.
"This is illegal!" Gillian shrieked, pointing her finger at Arthur. "You can't just throw us out of our home! I have clothes in that bedroom!"
"Actually, Mrs. Vance, we can," Arthur countered, gesturing toward two female moving assistants who emerged from the front door carrying three small suitcases. "All personal garments purchased prior to the marriage, along with basic toiletries, have been packed into these bags for you. Any luxury items, jewelry, or designer garments purchased using accounts under Robertson Global guaranties have been seized as marital assets pending court division."
The moving assistants set the three small suitcases onto the driveway.
"You can't do this..." Jasper whispered, his strength suddenly leaving him. He fell to his knees on the concrete driveway, staring at the empty front hallway of the house he had bragged about to his friends. "Where... where am I supposed to go?"
"That is entirely your concern, Mr. Vance," Arthur said, stepping down the porch stairs and handing Jasper a thick white envelope. "These are the preliminary divorce papers, an emergency restraining order prohibiting you or your family members from coming within five hundred feet of Mrs. Robertson or Master Leo Robertson, and a formal summons to appear before the Chancery Division of the Cook County Circuit Court on Monday morning."
Jasper looked at the thick envelope in his hands.
"And Mr. Vance?" Arthur added, pausing at the edge of the driveway before getting into his sedan. "I would advise you not to bother going to your corporate office tomorrow morning."
Jasper whipped his head up, his eyes wild. "What did you do to my company?!"
"Vance Innovations was forty-nine percent owned by a private angel investment firm called BlueStone Ventures," Arthur said with a faint, chilling smile. "BlueStone Ventures is a wholly owned subsidiary of Robertson Global Holdings. An emergency board meeting was convened at 2:00 PM today. You have been formally removed as Chief Executive Officer for gross negligence and unauthorized use of corporate capital."
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"No..." Jasper sobbed, clutching his head in his hands. "No! That's my company! I built it!"
"You built nothing, Mr. Vance," Arthur said coldly. "You were simply allowed to sit in the driver's seat while Mr. Robertson paid for the gas. And now, the journey is over."
