Chapter 4He Divorced A Fake Bankrupt Billionaire

First thing the next morning, the Osborn family deployed in full force.

Trent and Helen flanked me on either side like secret service agents, terrified their million-dollar mark might bolt. Trent had even worn a tailored suit, looking every bit the successful, upstanding citizen.

The county clerk’s office was a sea of humanity.

Trent had somehow managed an appointment. He dragged me straight to the window.

The clerk didn't even look up. "Nature of business?"

"Property title transfer," Trent answered eagerly. "Spousal asset being gifted to a sibling."

The clerk paused, giving us a highly suspicious look. It wasn't every day you saw someone so desperately eager to give away prime real estate.

"ID? Both parties need to sign in the presence of the notary."

Trent slid the pre-prepared documents across the counter toward me, shoving a blue ballpoint pen into my fingers.

"Sign it, babe. Quick. I'll take you out for a nice lunch right after."

Kyle was hovering behind us, rubbing his hands together, his eyes practically vibrating as they locked onto the property address on the paper.

I gripped the pen. My hand started to shake.

Then, it trembled violently.

Trent’s voice tightened. "Babe, why are you shaking? Just sign the line!"

Suddenly, I dropped the pen. I grabbed my stomach and let out a blood-curdling shriek.

"Oh my god! My stomach! It’s killing me!"

The scream echoed against the high ceilings of the municipal building. Every head in the waiting room snapped toward us.

I purposely let my knees buckle, collapsing to the linoleum floor. As I fell, I 'accidentally' tipped my oversized handbag upside down.

Clatter.

Lipstick, a compact mirror, my keys... and three crumpled, harshly folded sheets of A4 paper spilled out across the floor.

Trent reached down to help me up, but his eyes caught the bold red lettering stamped across the top of those papers.

[URGENT: NOTICE OF MARGIN CALL AND DEFAULT]

[TOTAL OUTSTANDING DEBT: $3,000,000.00]

[FINAL CURE DATE: TODAY]

The blood drained from Trent’s face so fast he looked translucent. His hand snapped back from me as if I were radioactive.

He picked up one of the papers, his voice vibrating with a reedy panic. "Georgia... what... what the hell is this?"

Sitting on the dirty floor, I let the tears flow. It was an Oscar-worthy performance of pure, pathetic despair.

"Trent, I'm so sorry... I didn't know how to tell you."

I gasped for air, clutching at his pant leg. "A few months ago, this guy at the club convinced me to leverage my portfolio into crypto futures. The market crashed. I was liquidated. Not only is all the cash gone, but I took out loans from some... really bad people to try and cover the margin."

Gasps rippled through the onlookers in the lobby.

"That duplex?" I sobbed loudly. "It's already leveraged to the hilt. With the compounding interest, I owe three million dollars."

Helen stumbled backward, nearly taking out a stanchion. "What? Three million? The house... the house is worthless?!"

I lunged forward, grabbing Kyle by the wrist in a death grip.

"Kyle! You’re my favorite brother-in-law! I'm completely out of options! If we transfer the title to you right now, it’s perfect! You take the house, and the three million dollar debt transfers to your name too!"

I looked up at him with wild, unhinged eyes. "Just sign the paper, Kyle! Take the debt! I'll work for you for the rest of my life to pay you back!"

Kyle looked at me like I was a demon dragging him to hell. He thrashed wildly, trying to break my grip.

"Get off me! I'm not taking your fucking debt! Mom! Trent! Get her off me!"

He was stronger than me. He yanked his arm free with such force I slid across the floor. Without a backward glance, Kyle bolted for the exit, slipping on the polished floor and losing a loafer in the process. He didn't even stop to pick it up.

Helen snapped out of her shock, pointing a trembling, enraged finger at me. "You vicious bitch! You were trying to ruin my son! We don't want your cursed house! Keep it!"

She practically sprinted after Kyle.

Trent stood there holding the fake collection notice, his face cycling through horror, rage, and profound disgust.

He looked down at me, and the mask was entirely gone. There was no fake love, no greed. Just revulsion.

"Georgia, how could you be so unbelievably stupid?"

I sat on the cold floor, watching him turn and march out of the double doors, leaving me behind.

I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye.

The corners of my mouth twitched upward.

That collections notice? I made it on Canva and printed it at FedEx for eighty-nine cents.