Chapter 5 - The UltimatumThursday afternoon, a sleek black town car pulled through the wrought-iron security gates of the Beverly Hills estate—gates that no longer belonged to the Whitmore family.
Two armed private security guards stepped out of the vehicle, followed by a tall man in a tailored charcoal suit with sharp, cold eyes that mirrored Claire’s.
Nathaniel Hart walked up the grand stone steps of the mansion and pushed open the front doors without knocking.
Richard, Evelyn, and Grant were standing in the foyer, looking like broken, cornered animals. As Nathan stepped inside, followed by two corporate liquidators carrying briefcases, Richard swallowed hard, attempting to salvage a shred of his dignity.
“Nathaniel,” Richard said, his voice tight. “Let’s... let’s be reasonable. This is a family matter. Surely we can sit down and negotiate—”
“There is nothing to negotiate,” Nathan interrupted, his voice cutting through the foyer like a razor blade. He stopped a few feet away from them, his gaze locking onto Richard with lethal intensity. “You laid hands on my sister. You broke her ribs. And then your son stood by and smiled.”
Grant stepped forward, his face flushed with panic. “Look, I made a mistake! I’ll call Claire right now, I’ll apologize—we can fix this marriage—”
Nathan raised a single hand, silencing Grant instantly.
“Marriage?” Nathan scoffed coldly. “That farce is already over. The annulment papers were filed and signed by a family court judge this morning. Claire is officially a Hart again, and your family name is completely legally severed from hers.”
Nathan signaled to one of the liquidators, who opened a leather folder and handed over a final set of documents.
“This is the final notice of complete asset forfeiture,” Nathan continued, stepping closer to Richard. “Every single holding, every real estate deed, every vehicle, and every piece of art in this mansion now belongs to Hart Global Enterprises. You are officially bankrupt. You have two hours to pack your personal belongings and vacate the premises.”
Evelyn let out a choked sob and collapsed onto the foyer bench. Grant stared at the floor, utterly defeated.
Richard’s hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, his face contorted with impotent rage. “You can’t do this! You’re destroying generations of legacy over a petty family dispute!”
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“Legacy?” Nathan smiled, a chilling expression that held no warmth whatsoever. “You thought my parents were hicks because they wore work boots and canned peaches. You forgot that true power doesn't need to flaunt itself in a ballroom. You traded an empire for your own arrogance.”
Nathan turned his back on them, walking toward the open front doors. “Your two hours start now.”
