Chapter 7 - THE RECKONING AT SUNSET
The eviction notice from the motel management was taped to the outside of Room 114 by Friday morning.
VACATE BY 12:00 PM OR PROPERTY WILL BE DISPOSED OF.
Andrew stood outside the doorway in a wrinkled white shirt and trousers he hadn't changed in two days, holding a styrofoam cup of lukewarm tap water. His hair was uncombed, and dark circles bruised the skin beneath his hollow eyes.
A sleek black Escalante pulled into the motel’s gravel parking lot, its engine humming with silent, terrifying power.
The rear door opened, and a man in a dark tailored suit stepped out. It wasn't Julian. It was Marcus—the former head security guard of the Bel-Air estate, who now wore an Escalante Corporate Security pin on his lapel.
Marcus walked across the crunching gravel with measured, heavy steps until he stood three feet from Andrew.
Andrew flinched, instinctively taking a step back toward the open motel door. “Marcus? What are you... what are you doing here? Did Andrew... did the lawyers send you?”
“Mr. Sterling,” Marcus said, his voice flat, professional, and entirely devoid of the nervous deference he used to show in the Bel-Air foyer. “You have thirty minutes to clear your personal effects from this room. The property has been acquired by an Escalante holding affiliate.”
Andrew stared at him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “Acquired? This... this is a dump! Why would Escalante buy a fleabag motel in the Valley?!”
“Because Don Alberto likes to clean up the neighborhood,” Marcus replied coolly, gesturing toward two men in suits who were unrolling a legal banner near the front office. “And because Mrs. Escalante specifically requested that this parcel be cleared for urban renewal.”
Andrew’s knees buckled slightly. He grabbed the doorframe to keep from falling.
“Marianne...” he whispered, the name tasting like ash on his tongue. “She... she did this? Just for a motel?”
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“She doesn't even know you’re here, Mr. Sterling,” Marcus said, his tone biting. “You aren't worth the ink on her calendar. Pack your bags.”
Marcus turned on his heel and walked back to the Escalante SUV, leaving Andrew standing alone in the midday sun, the noise of the Los Angeles traffic roaring around him like an ocean tide about to pull him under.
