“He cannot do that,” Julian said, his voice rising.

“The lease is under the corporate entity.”

“He has the board’s power of attorney,” Priya said from the desk.

She was looking at her screen again.

“He just submitted the eviction notice to the hotel management.”

“It was filed five minutes ago.”

A sharp knock sounded at the heavy oak door of the suite.

We all froze.

Nobody spoke.

The knock came again, louder this time, echoing in the quiet room.

I walked toward the foyer, my heels clicking softly on the hardwood.

I reached for the brass handle.

I opened the door.

Standing in the hallway was a man in a dark grey suit.

He held a manila envelope in his hand.

“Evelyn Whitlock?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

He handed me the envelope.

“You have been served,” he said.

I looked down at the heavy paper.

The ink of the signature was still wet in some places.

“Thank you,” I said to the server.

He nodded once, turned on his heel, and walked back toward the elevators.

Julian took the envelope from my hand.