Chapter 3 - The Freeze in the Mountains
Back at the chalet, Bradley was pouring himself another bourbon at the outdoor wet bar when the lights across the terrace abruptly died.
The music stopped. The glowing underwater pool lights went black. The outdoor patio heaters hissed and shut down, sending a freezing gust of mountain wind whistling through the shivering crowd.
"What the hell happened to the power?" Bradley cursed, tapping the light switches on the stone wall.
Suddenly, the electronic master door locks clicked shut across the entire property.
Inside the dark chalet, the smart thermostats dropped from seventy-two degrees to forty. The outdoor fire pits extinguished.
A moment later, two black SUVs with flashing amber security lights pulled up the gravel driveway. Four burly private security guards dressed in tactical winter coats stepped out, holding commercial eviction notices.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Bradley shouted, marching down the driveway with his cousins. "What are you doing on my property?!"
The lead security officer shone a high-powered flashlight directly into Bradley’s face.
"Mr. Bradley Sterling?" the officer asked coldly.
"Yeah, that's right! I'm the owner here!"
"You're not the owner, sir," the officer replied, handing him a laminated legal document. "The primary lessee, Mrs. Madison Vance, has terminated the lease agreement effective immediately. You and your guests have fifteen minutes to vacate the property before municipal sheriff deputies arrive to arrest you for criminal trespassing."
"What?!" Barbara shrieked, stumbling across the dark lawn in her evening heels, clutching her fur coat. "This is an outrage! My son is an executive! Call the owner!"
"Mrs. Vance is the owner of the leasing contract, ma'am," the guard stated flatly. "And the credit card on file for your incidentals, dining tabs, and ski passes was canceled twelve minutes ago."
Panic erupted among the thirty relatives.
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Inside the dark garage, the rental luxury vans wouldn't start because the digital concierge transponders had been deactivated. The local caterers immediately packed up the remaining prime rib and dessert platters, leaving the family standing on the freezing driveway in their evening wear, shivering in forty-degree darkness with zero transportation and maxed-out personal cards.
Bradley stood in the middle of the dark mountain road, staring at his dead phone, screaming my name into the cold, empty night.
