Chapter 5 - The Deposition of Lies
The grand deposition room on the twenty-fourth floor of the Daley Center was wrapped in heavy walnut paneling and artificial silence.
Vincent sat at the far side of the long conference table, flanked by two top-tier corporate defense attorneys in bespoke suits. He was dressed impeccably in a charcoal tailored suit, a silver tie, and his signature gold watch. To any outsider, he looked like the picture of an aggrieved, honorable businessman whose life had been disrupted by an unstable wife.
I sat opposite him, wearing a simple navy dress, flanked by Eleanor Shaw and Marcus Vance. My expression was completely calm, my hands folded neatly on the table.
Across the center of the table sat Julianna Mercer. She looked visibly shaken, her designer jacket pristine, but her fingers twitched nervously around a paper coffee cup. Her personal defense attorney sat beside her, looking deeply uncomfortable.
The court reporter adjusted her stenography machine. "We are on the record in the matter of Carter v. Carter."
Eleanor Shaw stood up, leaning her hands on the table, her gaze locking onto Julianna Mercer.
"Ms. Mercer," Eleanor began, her voice ringing clear and authoritative. "Please state your full name and occupation for the record."
"Julianna Mercer. Senior Vice President of Vance Commercial Acquisitions," she answered softly.
"Ms. Mercer, are you currently residing at 1420 North Lake Shore Drive, Unit 18B?"
"I am."
"Who owns that property?"
Julianna glanced at Vincent, whose face remained a stoic, emotionless mask. "It is owned by Lake Shore Holdings LLC."
"And who are the primary managing members of Lake Shore Holdings LLC?" Eleanor pressed, pulling a certified corporate deed from her folder.
"I... I am listed as the managing director," Julianna stammered.
"And who provided the eight hundred thousand dollar initial cash capital wire to purchase that unit on October 14th of last year?" Eleanor asked, leaning closer.
"Objection!" Vincent’s lead attorney, Richard Sterling, shouted, slamming his hand on the table. "This line of questioning is irrelevant to a simple marital dissolution proceeding!"
"Overruled by the court-appointed discovery magistrate sitting in the adjacent chamber, Mr. Sterling," Eleanor countered smoothly without breaking eye contact with Julianna. "Answer the question, Ms. Mercer. Under penalty of perjury."
Julianna swallowed hard, her eyes darting nervously toward Vincent. "Mr. Carter authorized the wire transfer."
"And was that eight hundred thousand dollars drawn from the primary operating account of Carter Enterprises—an asset acquired entirely during Mr. Carter's marriage to my client, Clara Carter?"
"I... I believe so, yes," Julianna whispered.
"Thank you," Eleanor said. She then pulled a printed sheet of mobile phone cell tower logs and laid it directly in front of Julianna.
"Ms. Mercer, please look at Exhibit C. This document contains cell tower location data for your primary mobile phone on the night of November 2nd—the night my client went into emergency labor at Northwestern Memorial Hospital."
Vincent’s jaw tightened visibly for the first time. His fingers clenched into a fist against his leather portfolio.
"According to these records," Eleanor continued, "at 11:42 PM, while Clara Carter was hemorrhaging in an operating room and her mother was begging Mr. Carter to return to the hospital, Mr. Carter’s phone and your phone were co-located at the Drake Hotel in Gold Coast. Is that correct?"
Julianna’s face turned completely white. She looked down at her hands, her lower lip trembling.
"Ms. Mercer," Eleanor raised her voice, her tone echoing like thunder in the room. "Did Vincent Carter leave his wife while she was nearly bleeding to death to meet you at the Drake Hotel to sign fraudulent asset transfer documents?"
"I... I told him to go to the hospital!" Julianna suddenly burst out, her voice breaking into sob. "I told him he should be with his wife! But he said... he said the marriage was already dead, and that he had to secure the property transfers before she realized what was happening!"
The room went dead silent save for the rapid clicking of the stenographer’s machine.
Vincent closed his eyes slowly, letting out a long, silent breath.
Richard Sterling slumped back in his chair, putting his pen down on the table, knowing his case was completely shattered.
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I looked directly across the table at the man I had spent five years loving, protecting, and defending.
"You left me to die for paperwork, Vincent," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying absolute power. "And now that paperwork is going to cost you everything you ever built."
