Julian’s expression shifted from smug confidence to confusion as he took in the scene before him. The three vehicles that had pulled in behind me were unmistakable. Two were marked police cars with flashing lights, and the third was a sleek black sedan that belonged to Harrison Vance, my attorney.
The officers stepped out first, followed by Harrison, who adjusted his tie as he approached the house. Julian took a step back, nearly spilling his drink in the process. Khloe appeared in the doorway, her face a blend of surprise and disbelief.
I crossed the street to join Harrison, who gave me a reassuring nod. The officers followed, their presence adding weight to the situation.
“Good evening,” Harrison said, his voice calm but authoritative. “We’re here to resolve a matter regarding the occupancy of this property.”
Julian tried to regain his composure. “This is a misunderstanding,” he stammered. “We’ve been living here for two years with Martha’s permission.”
