Ten years of missed vacations. Ten years of coming home exhausted but still forcing myself to keep going.
I bought that penthouse with my own money. Every payment. Every repair.
Every expense. My parents never contributed a single dollar. Neither did Ethan.
Yet somehow, after I moved overseas, they acted as if the apartment had always belonged to the family.
As if my success was something everyone had access to. They gave Ethan my spare key.
They told him to “make himself comfortable.” According to my cousin, they even helped carry his furniture inside.
They never asked me. Not once. Because in their minds, anything I owned automatically became something Ethan could use.
— What they didn’t know was that I had already sold the penthouse. The buyer was Adrian Cross.
One of Bellhaven’s most feared attorneys. He was famous for handling difficult cases and never backing down when someone crossed a legal boundary.
People described him as calm, precise, and impossible to pressure. He didn’t need to intimidate people.
The facts usually did that for him. When Ethan refused to leave the apartment, Adrian didn’t argue.
He didn’t raise his voice. He simply contacted his legal team. According to the recording, officers arrived with official documents proving the ownership transfer.
But Ethan refused to believe them. He laughed. “My sister would never sell this place.”
Then my father stepped forward. “You can’t remove my son. This apartment belongs to our family.”
Except… Legally, it didn’t. Not anymore. — The officers gave them one final warning.
Leave peacefully. Ethan made his choice. Instead of leaving, he shoved one of Adrian’s moving assistants and slammed the penthouse door shut.
