My mobile phone, which was lying on the kitchen counter, started vibrating violently. I looked at the screen. It appeared: EVELYN – MOBILE PHONE.
I dried my hands with a towel, signaled my sous-chef to take over, and went to my private office. I closed the soundproof door, enveloping it in silence. I answered the call, turned on speakerphone, and placed the phone on the desk.
“Hello Evelyn,” I said, my voice calm and cold as crystal.
“MAYA! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”
My mother’s voice was not just a scream; it was a raw, hysterical cry of pure, unadulterated fear. The arrogant, rich matriarch who had thrown water in my face had vanished. Through the loudspeaker, I heard a chaotic symphony of background noises: the heavy stomping of boots on the wooden floor, Chloe’s high-pitched, desperate wailing, and the terrifying, mechanical hum of the drills.
“There are officers in my house!” Evelyn screamed, her breath catching as if she were having a heart attack. “There are armed men! They say I have to leave! Maya, they have a piece of paper with your name on it! Solve this! Tell them right now that this is a mistake!”
I leaned back in my leather office chair and stared at the ceiling.
“It is no mistake, Evelyn,” I answered completely calmly. “I did exactly what I told you to do. I told you that you had to get used to the idea of being homeless.”
“YOU CAN’T DO THIS! THIS IS MY HOUSE! MOM LEFT IT ON ME!” she screamed, her voice breaking violently.
‘No, she didn’t do that,’ I said, and dealt you a fatal blow with the truth. ‘Grandma Beatrice left me the house in a blind trust. She did it because she knew you are a parasite, Evelyn. She knew you would plunder the assets to fund Chloe’s obsessions, and she knew you would eventually kick me out. She gave me the house to ensure I would always have bargaining power.’
In the background, I heard a deep, authoritative male voice: ‘Madam, you must move away from the door. The locksmith is drilling open the lock. You have exactly forty-five minutes to pack your belongings before we physically remove you from the premises.’
‘Maya, please!’ Evelyn begged. It was the first time in my thirty years that I had heard my mother beg. The sense of entitlement had completely vanished, replaced by the terrifying realization of her utter helplessness. ‘Where are we supposed to go?! We have nowhere to go! Chloe is crying! Please, I am your mother!’
‘You haven’t been my mother since the night you kicked me out of the house because I refused to pay your favorite daughter’s debts,’ I said softly, the determination of my tone echoing in the silence of the office. ‘I just sold that property to Apex Development for three million dollars in cash to finance the opening of my new restaurant. They’re tearing it down next month.’
‘DESTRUCTION?!’ screamed Chloe in the background, who had clearly heard the phone conversation. ‘My clothes! My shoes! Mom, they’re putting my Chanel bags in garbage bags!’
‘Did you want to start your own business so badly, Evelyn?’ I asked, as a deep, terrifying sense of closure flooded my soul. “You wanted to become a manager? Then you’d better start by learning how to live your life from a shabby motel room. Never contact me again.”
I leaned forward and pressed the red button, interrupting my mother’s hysterical crying in the middle of a sentence.
Miles away, in the affluent suburbs, Evelyn Lin dropped her phone onto the cracked concrete of the driveway. She sank to her knees in the dust, her expensive silk bathrobe crumbling around her. She watched in horror, rooted to the spot, as two armed deputy sheriffs stood guard while a team of helmeted men dragged heavy black garbage bags full of Chloe’s designer clothes across the lawn.
The heavy brass lock on the front door had been drilled through, stripped, and replaced with a commercial-grade industrial lock.
Evelyn and Chloe remained standing outside. The fortress they considered their birthright had vanished, sold before their eyes by the daughter they had treated like a ghost. The reality they had so fiercely denied had finally arrived, and with it, the authorities.
Chapter 5: The Two Realities
Six months later, the contrast between our lives was poignant, shocking, and undeniably poetic.
In a filthy, smoky motel room with a rent of twenty dollars a night, situated along the highway, Chloe sat on a sagging mattress, crying with frustration. She wore a cheap, ill-fitting polyester uniform and desperately tried to pin a name tag to her chest. Because she had never developed a useful skill and Evelyn’s bank accounts were completely frozen and plundered by the sudden shock of having to support herself, Chloe was forced to take a job at the drive-through of a local fast-food chain, just to be able to pay the motel bill.
Evelyn sat in the corner of the cramped room and stared listlessly at the flickering, hissing television screen. She looked ten years older. The tailored suits were gone. The expensive hairstyles had given way to a grey, disheveled mass.
The social circle Evelyn had been so proud of had completely abandoned her. The wealthy ladies of the country club did not love Evelyn; they only loved the large house where she hosted their extravagant parties. The moment she lost the house, she also lost her identity. When she tried to call her ‘friends’ for a loan, their numbers mysteriously turned out to be unreachable. She was an outcast, drowning in the bitter reality she herself had created.
Further on, the city center bustled with life.
I stood on the sidewalk in front of a stately, beautifully renovated historic building. The facade was brick, impeccable, and illuminated by warm golden spotlights. A crowd of more than two hundred people had gathered and stretched out onto the street.
I held a large, ceremonial golden pair of scissors in my hand.
Tonight was the grand opening of Aura II.
The three million dollars I had earned from the sale of the house had not only secured my future but had also catapulted my career to the top of the business world. I had completely avoided usurious loans from banks and demanding investors. I had bought the property with cash, planning to build an impressive, two-story flagship restaurant there, which was already fully booked for the next six months.
Photographers from the local press snapped pictures at a rapid pace, immortalizing the moment. Renowned culinary critics milled around the bar, praising the champagne and the appetizers. But most importantly, they stood right behind me with genuine smiles. And standing there, full of pride, was my loyal staff: the sous chefs, managers, and table clearers, who had worked with me for years. They were my second family.
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