Chapter 4 - The Freeze
Marcus Vance, my family’s trust attorney, did not pick up on the first ring at ten o'clock at night.
He picked up on the third.
"Clarissa?" his deep, gravelly voice came through the speaker. "Why are you calling me on a Saturday evening? Has something happened to the estate?"
"Lucas walked out tonight with his subordinate," I said, keeping my voice steady. "And he just transferred fifteen thousand dollars from our joint account into his personal offshore line."
There was a five-second pause on the other end of the line, followed by the rustling of paper and the clicking of a desk lamp.
"Did he take the vehicle?" Marcus asked sharply.
"He took his duffel bag and left in her car," I replied. "The Audi is still in the garage."
"Listen to me very carefully," Marcus said, his tone shifting instantly into cold legal precision.
"California is a community property state, but your trust structure was finalized before the marriage certificate was signed."
"That joint checking account was created exclusively for property upkeep and domestic utilities."
"Every single deposit into that account came from the Eugene timberland dividend disbursements."
"I have the tracking trails from the last four years documented down to the exact cent."
"What does that mean?" I asked, gripping the phone tightly.
"It means he didn't just take his share of marital property," Marcus said coldly.
"He misappropriated dedicated funds from an irrevocable family trust."
"Under state law, that is not a domestic dispute to be sorted out in a messy divorce court."
"That is grand larceny and breach of fiduciary trust."
"What do you want me to do, Marcus?"
"Tomorrow morning is Sunday," the attorney replied. "Corporate headquarters will be closed, but the automated fraud division of his financial firm never sleeps."
"Lucas works for Apex Capital Group, correct?"
"Yes," I answered. "He runs the regional risk assessment portfolio."
"The Senior Vice President of Risk Assessment cannot be flagged for emergency asset freezing without an internal alert triggering at corporate headquarters," Marcus noted with dry satisfaction.
"By eight o'clock tomorrow morning, I will file an emergency ex-parte injunction freezing every account tied to his social security number."
"He will wake up at the Ritz-Carlton or wherever he took that girl, and his card will be declined before he orders his breakfast."
"Do it," I said without hesitation.
I hung up the phone and looked out the French doors into the darkened backyard.
The saltwater pool reflected the moonlight in shimmering silver waves.
For years, I had walked on eggshells around his fragile ego, minimizing my own family's wealth so he could feel like the great provider.
I had driven an eight-year-old sedan while he leased high-end German sedans to impress partners he barely knew.
I had washed his shirts, kept his secrets, and carried the weight of his insecurities on my shoulders.
And in return, he had brought his mistress to rub my face in his newfound power.
Gertrude walked back into the living room holding two mugs of black tea.
She set one before me and sat down on the edge of the sofa.
"You're going to destroy him, aren't you?" she asked softly.
I looked at the woman who had carried him, fed him, and watched him grow into a hollow shell of ambition.
"He destroyed himself, Gertrude. I'm just refusing to go down with the wreckage."
May you like
The old woman took a slow sip from her cup and nodded once.
"Then strike hard, Clarissa," she whispered. "Because a wounded wolf always tries to bite back."
