Chapter 4 - The Master of the House
At exactly 6:43 PM, the elevator doors on the sixteenth floor opened. Derek strode down the hallway with his usual arrogant, self-assured swagger, his arm draped casually over his sister Suzanne's shoulders. Suzanne was laughing loudly, clutching a designer shopping bag she had purchased using the last of her maxed-out credit cards.
"I’m telling you, Suzanne, she just needed a little wake-up call," Derek scoffed, pulling his key ring from his pocket. "She’s been getting too independent lately, thinking she can make the rules because she brings in the corporate salary. But she knows her place. She’ll have the card waiting for you on the table, guaranteed."
"She’d better," Suzanne sneered, popping her gum. "I need to pay my car insurance by tomorrow, and I’m not spending my own cash on it. Your wife is so stingy it's embarrassing."
Derek reached the door of Apartment 1602. He slid his key into the lock.
It didn't turn.
He frowned, jiggling the key, forcing it deeper into the cylinder. The key remained completely rigid, refusing to budge even a fraction of a millimeter. He pulled it out, inspecting the brass teeth, then looked up at the lock.
"What the hell?" Derek muttered, his brow furrowing as he noticed the clean, brushed-steel face of a brand-new electronic deadbolt that hadn't been there that morning. "Did she change the lock?"
"Are you serious?" Suzanne sighed, crossing her arms. "I thought you said you had her under control, Derek. I don't have time for this."
Derek banged his fist violently against the heavy wood door. "Skylar! Open the door! Skylar, open this damn door right now!"
The hallway remained completely silent. No footsteps approached the other side.
Frantic and humiliated in front of his sister, Derek grabbed his phone and dialed Skylar's number. It went straight to voicemail. He dialed again. The same cold, automated tone answered him. He slammed his hand against the doorframe, his face turning an angry, mottled red.
"She think she’s playing a game," Derek hissed, his voice shaking with a sudden, dark panic. "She can't lock me out of my own home. I’ll call the building manager. He knows who I am."
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He took three steps toward the elevator before his phone suddenly vibrated with an incoming text message from an unknown number. He swiped the screen open, his heart stopping as he read the words.
Miami-Dade Police Department Notice: An emergency temporary injunction for protection against domestic violence has been issued against you, Derek Vance. You are legally prohibited from entering the premises of 1412 Bayshore Drive, Apt 1602. Any attempt to contact Skylar Vance or access the property will result in immediate arrest.
