Chapter 1
The house was a gift from my dad, and it was meant to be a little haven for my husband and me.
But when I got back from a two-week business trip, I was shocked to find my front door locked up tight, and my key wouldn't work.
Totally baffled, I called a locksmith.
A sharp click sounded.
The door swung open as the lock clicked.
The sharp smell of barbecue mixed with greasy smoke slammed into me, making me almost gag.
Inside, my sister-in-law, Rita Booth, and her whole family of six people were feasting around the dining table, leaving the place in utter chaos.
To top it off, my mother-in-law was lounging in my silk robe, clutching a skewer of sizzling pork dripping with oil.
When she noticed I was back, she couldn't even be bothered to lift her eyes.
She said, "Oh, you're back?
"Perfect timing. Go wash the dishes."
I was shaking with rage, pointing at her and yelling, "This is my house!"
Rita gnawed on her chicken wing and gave a mocking laugh.
She sneered, "Julia, did you forget already?
"My brother's name is on the deed too!"
*****
My dad paid for the house in full and gifted it to me.
The deed had both my name and Sterling Booth's on it.
It was supposed to be our own little haven for the two of us.
But when I got back from a two-week business trip, my key wouldn't open the lock.
The lock had been changed from the inside.
I stood at my own front door, feeling like a homeless person who'd been thrown out.
Rage and disbelief hit me hard.
I pulled out my phone and called Sterling.
The call rang forever before he finally picked up, and the background noise was crazy loud.
"Hey, honey, you're back?" Sterling said.
He sounded kind of guilty.
I said, "I'm back, but I can't get into the house."
My tone was ice-cold. "Care to explain?"
Sterling was silent for a few seconds.
Sterling finally said, "Honey, please don't be mad. It's Mom and Rita...
"Mom and Rita brought the kids from back home, said they were looking for jobs in the city and didn't have anywhere else to stay.
"So I let them move in for now.
"I mean, the house is huge, and it'd be empty otherwise."
I couldn't help but laugh in disbelief and anger.
I demanded, "Sterling, why didn't you bother to tell me before letting them move in?
"And what's with changing the locks?
"Were you scared I'd come back and throw your darling family out?"
Sterling said, "No, honey, please, hear me out.
"Mom said she was afraid you wouldn't agree, so she took it upon herself to change the locks.
"She said she'd wait until you got back to talk things over. She thought it'd be a surprise for you."
Instead of surprise, I was shocked.
"I'm right outside. Have them open the door," I said.
I was done being patient. This was his last chance.
Sterling replied, "Honey, I'm in the middle of a client meeting, I really can't leave right now.
"Crash at a hotel nearby tonight, okay? I'll come back and explain everything as soon as I finish up tonight.
"Julia, we are all family. Don't be so petty."
With that, he hung up in a hurry.
I gripped my phone so hard the veins on the back of my hand stood out.
He said we were family.
He even called me petty.
I took a deep breath and called up the locksmith company.
"Hi, can you send someone over? The address is..." I said.
Half an hour later, the locksmith showed up.
He took a look at the lock, then checked my ownership papers and ID to make sure everything was legit.
He said, "This lock's brand new, and it's pretty high-quality.
"Looks like we'll have to break it open."
"Open it," I said coldly.
The locksmith didn't say another word. He pulled out his tools and got to work.
The shrill whine of the drill echoed through the quiet hallway.
Soon, loud footsteps and angry voices came from inside.
"Who's out there? What the hell are you doing?" a sharp female voice demanded.
Rita's shrill voice rang out.
I ignored her.
A few minutes later, with a loud crack, the lock finally gave way.
I shoved the door open.
The heavy smell of barbecue mixed with greasy smoke slammed into me the moment I stepped inside.
It made my stomach twist, and I nearly gagged right then and there.
The living room looked like a war zone.
Snack wrappers and empty drink bottles littered the floor.
On the expensive leather sofa my dad bought, a bunch of kids were stomping and wrestling all over it.
The sofa was smeared with black footprints and oily stains.
In the dining room, Rita and her whole family of six were crowded around my dining table, feasting on barbecue cooked on an electric grill.
The table was a disaster zone, piled high with dirty dishes and grease practically running off the edges.
There was my mother-in-law, Misty Booth, shamelessly wearing my luxurious silk robe.