Chapter 5 - The Legal Counter-StrikeBy eight o'clock the following morning, I was sitting across the mahogany conference table in the downtown offices of Vance & Sterling Family Law, looking at senior partner Arthur Vance.
Arthur adjusted his reading glasses, sliding a stack of printed financial summaries back across the table toward me.
“Well, Elena,” Arthur said, his tone a mix of professional admiration and caution. “You certainly didn't leave any loose ends. The asset tracing on the joint account withdrawals is immaculate. I’ve rarely seen a client bring in documentation this clean.”
“When you spend your entire professional life auditing multi-million-dollar real estate portfolios, tracing fifty-two thousand dollars in unauthorized household transfers is practically a warm-up exercise,” I replied calmly, sipping my black coffee.
Arthur smiled faintly, leaning back in his leather chair. “Indeed. Now, regarding the immediate dissolution of the marriage: given that we have an ironclad prenuptial agreement, clear documentation of financial dissipation by the husband, and proof of unauthorized habitation by third parties, we can file for an uncontested expedited divorce on grounds of marital waste and breach of fiduciary trust.”
“I don't want it to be uncontested if it means letting Mark off easy,” I said sharply. “I want every penny he and his mother diverted from our savings account returned with compound interest. And I want an immediate court-ordered audit of their joint expenditures over the last year.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You want to go full forensic on your own household?”
“I want to make an example out of them,” I corrected him. “Mark thought he could coast through life on my coattails while his family parasitized my home. I want the courts to freeze any personal assets or future earnings attachments until every dime of the money they stole is paid back in full.”
“Consider it done,” Arthur said, picking up his fountain pen. “I’ll have our paralegal file the emergency motions by noon. Expect a process server to catch Mark at his part-time electronics store job before the afternoon shift ends.”
I nodded, feeling a cold, satisfying surge of empowerment. The days of playing the accommodating, quiet wife were dead and buried.
As I left the law firm and stepped out onto the bustling downtown sidewalk, my phone buzzed in my coat pocket.
It was an incoming call from an unknown number.
May you like
I hesitated for a second, then swiped answer.
“Elena?” Mark’s voice crackled through the speaker, sounding breathless, panicked, and pathetic. “Thank God you picked up. Please... you have to call your lawyer. A process server just showed up at my store and handed me divorce papers!”
Related Stories
