Chapter 4: The Exile of the Queen
An hour later, the black sedan pulled up the gravel driveway. Silas Thorne didn't enter the house like a guest; he entered like a hurricane. He was an older man, but his presence sucked the oxygen out of the room. He didn't look at Arthur or Elena. He walked straight to Eleanor, who stood trembling, her composure finally shattered.
"I built this empire on the principle of strength," Silas said, his voice booming. "But strength is not cruelty. Cruelty is the hallmark of the weak who fear they are losing control."
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He turned to the lawyers who had followed him, men carrying stacks of documents that Arthur hadn't even known existed. "You’ve been living in my house, spending my money, and using my name to harass a member of my family? You are no longer a Thorne. Your access to the trusts, the villas, and the accounts is terminated, effective immediately."
Eleanor tried to speak, to justify her actions, but Silas waved a hand dismissively. The guards who accompanied him stepped forward, their presence unyielding. There were no negotiations. There were no second chances. Within twenty minutes, the woman who had lorded over the household like a queen was being escorted out, her belongings left in the foyer, her status stripped away as quickly as it had been held.
