Chapter 9 - The Lobby Confrontation
The chime of the elevator doors opening on the fourth floor of the downtown Sacramento Marriott sounded crisp and professional. I stepped out into the carpeted hallway, holding a thick manila envelope containing the court-stamped injunction and financial freeze orders.
Justin hadn't answered my lawyer's formal service via email, so Sarah had instructed me to have a process server drop the physical papers off at his known temporary address. But after thinking about it during the drive downtown, I decided I wanted to deliver them myself.
Room 412.
I walked down the quiet corridor, my heels clicking softly against the hotel carpet. When I reached the door, I didn't bother knocking politely. I raised my hand and delivered two sharp, authoritative raps against the wood.
A moment later, the locks clicked, and the door swung open.
It wasn't Justin standing in the doorway. It was Virginia.
She wore a silk bathrobe, her hair perfectly styled despite the morning hour. When her eyes landed on me, her smug, superior expression hardened instantly into pure venom.
"What are you doing here?" Virginia demanded, her voice rising as she tried to block the doorway with her shoulder. "You've done enough damage, Chloe. Justin doesn't want to talk to you right now."
"That's funny, because my lawyer has plenty to say to him," I said, stepping forward with enough force that she instinctively retreated half a step into the room.
From behind her, Justin appeared in the small entryway, wearing a rumpled dress shirt and slacks, looking exhausted and stressed. "Chloe? What is this about? I told you on the phone we need space—"
"You don't get space when you steal forty-five thousand dollars of our community funds to buy a house in Bakersfield behind my back, Justin," I interrupted, cutting through his rehearsed excuses like a knife.
Justin’s face turned pale. He glanced nervously at his mother, whose lips tightened into a thin, furious line.
"That money was family money," Virginia hissed, stepping up to defend her son. "Justin earned it working at the firm, and he has every right to secure a stable future for his family—not throw it away on an ungrateful, career-obsessed wife who can't even host a proper dinner!"
"This isn't your marriage, Virginia, and it's certainly not your money," I said, locking eyes with her before turning my gaze back to my husband. I pulled the legal papers from the manila envelope and held them out toward his chest.
Justin stared down at the bold heading stamped across the top page: EMERGENCY INJUNCTION: ASSET FREEZE AND RESTRAINING ORDER.
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"Consider this your wake-up call, Justin," I whispered coldly. "You chose your mother's hotel room over your home. Now you get to deal with the legal consequences."
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