Chapter 8 - THE POWER SHIFT
By 3:00 PM that afternoon, Christian was sitting in the cramped living room of Gwen’s sister’s run-down ranch house in Glendale. The air conditioning unit was old and rattled violently, barely keeping the temperature below eighty-five degrees.
Gwen sat on a worn corduroy sofa, weeping into a cheap paper towel. Her makeup was gone, her eyes were puffy, and her wrists still bore faint red marks from the police handcuffs.
"Look at this place!" Gwen wailed, gesturing at the stained ceiling tiles. "It smells like boiled cabbage! I am Gwen Mercer! I belong in Paradise Valley, not in a Glendale slum! Christian, you have to fix this! Call that ungrateful witch right now! Threaten to take half of everything! Demand she drop the charges!"
"Mom, shut up for a second! I'm trying to think!" Christian snapped, pacing the linoleum floor.
He was wearing the same wrinkled shirt from yesterday. His phone was dead, his car was gone—the Porsche dealership’s repo truck had brazenly hooked the car while he was inside the Glendale diner with Gwen—and his sister Chloe was locked in the bathroom, screaming through the door that she was going to have a nervous breakdown.
"We have Elena," Gwen reminded him, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial hiss. "Elena’s boutique is opening tomorrow! The Camelback villa has five bedrooms! Christian, why are we sitting here? Call an Uber! Let’s go to Camelback!"
"We can't just move into Elena’s house, Mom!" Christian said, running his hands through his unwashed hair. "That lease is under the Apex account! If Sienna’s lawyers start digging into Meridian’s vendor logs, they might flag the company name!"
"How could she find out?" Gwen scoffed dismissively. "Sienna is a corporate drone. She spends her life looking at logistics charts and budget sheets! She doesn't have the brains to look past her own nose. She’s probably sitting in that empty mansion right now, crying her eyes out because you aren't there to hold her hand."
Right then, a heavy knock echoed through the flimsy front door.
Christian jumped. "Who is that?"
Gwen’s face lit up with smug triumph. "It's her! I told you! She couldn't even last twenty-four hours without you! Go open the door, Christian. But don't you dare be soft on her! Make her beg on her knees before you agree to move back in!"
Christian puffed out his chest, straightened his collar, and put on his most stern, authoritative scowl. He pulled the door open.
Standing on the cracked concrete porch was not Sienna.
It was a tall, stone-faced man wearing a dark suit, flanked by two uniformed Maricopa County Sheriff's Deputies.
"Christian Mercer?" the man asked.
"Yes... who are you?"
The man thrust a thick stack of legal documents into Christian’s chest.
"You have been formally served with a petition for marital dissolution, an emergency ex parte freezing injunction issued by the Superior Court of Arizona, and a civil notice of criminal referral for wire fraud and corporate embezzlement."
Christian’s fingers lost all strength. The papers tumbled onto the welcome mat, scattering in the desert breeze.
"What... what is this?" Christian choked out.
"All personal, business, and joint accounts tied to your name, including Apex Horizon Logistics, have been frozen by court order," the process server stated formally. "Furthermore, you are hereby served with an emergency eviction notice for the commercial and residential premises located at 4410 Camelback Ridge and 712 Scottsdale Fashion Row."
Gwen rushed to the door, screaming. "What did you say?! What about the boutique?!"
The process server didn't even look at her. He turned to the deputies. "Service completed at 15:14 hours."
The deputies turned and walked back to their patrol vehicle without a word.
Christian dropped to his knees on the porch, his hands trembling as he picked up the first page of the filing.
Printed across the top of the superior court summons, in bold, unmistakable letters, was the title of the civil complaint:
*SIENNA MERCER V. CHRISTIAN MERCER, GWEN MERCER, ELENA VANCE, AND APEX HORIZON LOGISTICS LLC.*
Beneath it was a full-color exhibit: The Cabo San Lucas yacht photograph, with Christian, Elena, and Gwen smiling under the Mexican sun.
Christian felt a cold, crushing weight drop into his stomach.
She didn't just know.
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She knew *everything*.
***