Chapter 5 - Gathering the Arsenal
The next three weeks were a blur of depositions, legal strategy meetings, and endless cups of tea. My dining room table, once the center of Marcus’s lavish dinner parties, was now a war room covered in bank statements, printed text messages, and legal briefs.
Elena handled the criminal assault case from the DA’s office, while my divorce attorney, a shark named Robert Hayes, managed the civil litigation and the unraveling of Marcus’s financial fraud.
“He’s fighting the divorce,” Robert said one afternoon, peering over his reading glasses. “He wants 50% of the marital assets, alimony, and joint custody of Lily. He’s claiming your trust is commingled property because he paid the property taxes twice.”
“He paid them with money he embezzled from his own company,” I countered, sliding a blue folder across the table. “Here is the proof. The funds went from the corporate account to a dummy vendor, then to his offshore account, and finally to our joint checking before paying the county tax board.”
Robert opened the folder, his eyes scanning the meticulously highlighted spreadsheets. A slow, terrifying smile spread across his face.
“Claire, this is... a work of art. The FBI is going to have a field day with this.”
“I don't want the FBI yet,” I said, leaning forward. “If the Feds seize his assets now, the divorce gets tied up in a criminal freeze. I want to face him in the deposition first. I want him to look me in the eye when he realizes he has absolutely nothing left.”
Elena, who was pacing by the window, turned around. “The criminal trial for the assault is set for next month. Brooke’s testimony is solid. The text messages prove premeditation, which bumps the charge from simple battery to aggravated domestic violence with intent to terrorize.”
I looked at Lily, who was playing on a blanket on the floor. She was safe. The house was quiet. The terror that used to grip my chest every time I heard a car in the driveway was gone.
“He’s going to bring Nolan to the deposition,” I predicted. “He uses his friends as a shield.”
“Let him,” Robert said, closing the folder. “Nolan is listed as a minor partner in Marcus’s logistics firm. When we drop these financial bombs, Nolan will realize he’s an accessory to federal fraud. The rats will eat each other before the ship even finishes sinking.”
We spent the rest of the week rehearsing. They grilled me with the questions Marcus’s lawyers would ask. They tried to make me angry, tried to make me cry. They attacked my character, my mothering, my sanity.
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But I didn't break. I had already survived the worst Marcus could do to me. The woman who had cowered on the floor four days postpartum was dead. The woman sitting at the table was forged in the fire of his betrayal.
I was ready.
