Chapter 6 - The Counterattack
They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
But fury is messy. Fury makes mistakes.
I didn't want fury. I wanted absolute, calculated destruction.
By Wednesday, Bradley realized the severity of the situation.
With no money, no car, and nowhere to live, he was forced to move into his parents' cramped two-bedroom apartment.
But instead of begging for forgiveness, his family decided to play the victim.
Barbara took to Facebook.
She posted a massive, dramatic paragraph tagging all their mutual friends and family.
“My heart is broken. My evil daughter-in-law threw my son out on the street with nothing! She took his cars, his money, and left us stranded in the mountains in the middle of the night! Please pray for Bradley during this abusive time. Narcissists are real!”
Within hours, my phone started buzzing with messages from concerned acquaintances.
I didn't reply to a single one.
Instead, I took a screenshot of the post and sent it to Arthur.
Two hours later, a courier arrived at Barbara's apartment.
He handed her a thick legal envelope.
Inside was a Cease and Desist order for defamation.
But Arthur hadn't stopped there.
Attached to the order was a draft of the impending lawsuit against Bradley for the $80,000 he stole.
And on the very last page, there was a single, printed photograph.
It was a bank surveillance photo of Bradley and his cousin Chloe, withdrawing cash together.
With a sticky note attached that read: “Remove the post in 60 seconds, or this goes on Facebook next. - Maddie.”
I was sitting at my desk when I refreshed Barbara’s page.
The post disappeared instantly.
An hour later, my office phone rang. The receptionist patched it through.
“Maddie, please,” Bradley’s voice begged through the speaker.
He sounded exhausted, broken, and terrified.
“Don't hang up. Please.”
I leaned back in my leather chair. “I'm listening.”
“I'm sorry,” he sobbed. “I'm so sorry. My mom made me do it. Chloe was a mistake. Just please, don't sue me for the money. I don't have it. If you sue me, I'll go to jail.”
“You should have thought about that before you put your hands on me, Bradley.”
“It was a joke! The pool was a joke!”
“And this is the punchline,” I replied coldly.
“Maddie, what do you want from me? You already took the cars. You took the house. I have nothing!”
“I want you to sign the divorce papers exactly as they are written,” I dictated.
“No alimony. No division of assets. You walk away with the clothes on your back.”
He hesitated.
“And if I don't?”
“Then Arthur takes the fraud evidence to the district attorney tomorrow morning, and I make sure your entire family goes down as accomplices to embezzlement.”
There was a long, agonizing silence on the other end of the line.
I could hear him breathing heavily.
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“Okay,” he finally whispered, his spirit completely crushed. “I'll sign them.”
“Good boy,” I said, and hung up the phone.
