Chapter 53 The Notice of Foreclosure

Chapter 53 The Notice of Foreclosure
When Stephen finally pulled up at the mansion, my eyes immediately caught the sight of several people in stiff, corporate suits lingering near the entrance. They weren’t just standing around—they were positioned, spaced out with intent, like they were guarding the place or waiting for someone specific.

A cold prickle slid down my spine.

“Who are they?” The question slipped out of my mouth before I even realized I was saying it.

“I don’t know,” Stephen said, squinting toward them. His voice dropped, uneasy. “But they don’t look like they’re here for anything good.”

No kidding.

I pushed the door open and stepped out, my legs suddenly feeling way too light, as though fear had hollowed my bones. One of the men immediately began walking toward me. He had a briefcase, a clipboard tucked under his arm, and the kind of expression only people who deliver bad news for a living tend to wear—stern, detached, unmoved.

“Miss Abby Anderson, correct?” he asked.

“Yes… that’s me.” My voice came out thinner than I meant.

The man nodded once, professionally, without warmth. “Since your father is hospitalized and unavailable at the moment, I bring you a notice of foreclosure of this property.”

My heart dropped so fast it felt like it hit the ground.

“What?” I croaked. “That’s not possible… what do you—what do you mean?”

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t soften. He simply extended the stack of documents toward me as if he were handing over a food menu instead of the destruction of everything my father had worked for.

My fingers trembled violently as I took the envelope. I could barely skim the words. They all swam in front of me—default, violation, seizure of property, debt settlement, immediate enforcement.

No, no, no.

It felt like the world tilted under my feet. Like someone had just scooped out the air around me and left me gasping in a vacuum.

“What the hell…?” My voice was barely a whisper.

Beside me, Stephen stiffened. I could see the panic twist across his face—the kind of panic that said this is not just your nightmare, this is mine now too. Without another word, he sprinted into the mansion.

Probably to check on his mother. Probably to confirm if somehow and possibly, she knew about everything going on.

And I just stood there.

Frozen.

A foreclosure notice in my hand.

Corporate strangers watching me fall apart.

My father in a hospital bed.

And everything—everything—slipping right out from under me.

I slipped deeper into myself the moment Nina’s voice cut through the chaos, slicing through the air like something intentionally cruel. I didn’t even hear her footsteps—she just materialized behind me, her presence cold, sharp, and far too sure of itself. I turned around automatically, my tears still trembling on the edges of my lashes.

“Do you see that a lot of things are crashing down because of your actions?”

For a second I genuinely thought I misheard her. My actions? Here I was, holding foreclosure papers that felt like they were burning straight through my skin, my father lying in a hospital bed, Stephen running inside like something horrible was waiting for him—and somehow she still found a way to make me the common denominator of destruction?

“What are you talking about? What do you mean?” My voice cracked. I hated that it did. I hated that she heard it.

Nina didn’t even give me the courtesy of eye contact full of sympathy or hesitation. No—she scoffed. Actually scoffed, like I was some dramatic child throwing a tantrum and she was too sophisticated to bother pretending she cared.

“It means you shouldn’t have forced yourself on Kevin in the first place. All this is happening because of both of you.”

Something inside me recoiled so hard I felt it physically—like a punch straight to my sternum. Forced myself? Was that really the narrative spinning in her mind? Or worse… was that what she wanted the world to believe?

I blinked, the tears finally spilling down my face. I didn’t even bother to wipe them. “Or haven’t you seen the news?”

“What—what news?” I barely got the words out. My chest felt tight, suspended in some awful place between panic and disbelief.

Nina reached into her bag with the kind of casual precision that didn’t match the devastation she was dropping into my lap. She pulled out a tablet, tapped the screen once, and held it out to me like she was offering a glass of wine instead of a bomb.

My face. Kevin’s face. Photos. Headlines. Commentary. Speculations. Our names everywhere, plastered across gossip sites and business blogs alike, spiraling into something that felt far worse than scandal.

My stomach twisted. I could barely Breathe. And here I thought if anyone would be quick to go against me and my relationship with Kevin real quick, it would be Sarah. But Nina was holding the reins.

“Your relationship with Kevin is now all over the Internet,” Nina continued, sounding almost pleased. “And soon your father will find out about it and will be completely disappointed in his beloved daughter.”

Her words hit me harder than the foreclosure notice. My father—weak, vulnerable, fighting for his life—finding out about… this. Not from me. Not with context. Not with truth. But through the ugliest interpretation possible.

My throat burned.

“But,” Nina said, her tone suddenly smooth, syrupy, soaked in satisfaction, “I can make it all go away before he finds out. The foreclosure… your family’s already tainted reputation, the acquisition of your family's company… everything. It’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

She smiled then. A slow, controlled, victorious smile that made my skin crawl.

“But only on one condition—”

Something inside me broke open. Everything felt too big, too loud, too heavy—the air, the silence, the weight of what was happening. My mind couldn’t wrap itself around all of it at once. Not the men in suits waiting outside. Not the foreclosure notice in my hand. Not Stephen’s panic. Not Kevin’s abrupt disappearance. Not my father’s company on the line. Not the way the world now saw me. Not Nina’s smug leverage.

All I could do was close my eyes, just for a second, to keep myself from falling apart right there on the steps of the only home I’d ever known.

I clasped my eyes shut. I couldn’t believe this. I couldn’t believe any of it. But the worst part—the part that made my breath hitch—was the sinking knowledge that whatever condition she was about to name… it wasn’t going to be something I could walk away from.

And that was the moment I realized: I was standing in the middle of a battlefield I didn’t even realize had been completely drawn until now.