Chapter 3 - The Cold War Begins
By seven o'clock the next morning, I was sitting in a high-rise office in downtown Chicago, looking out over Lake Michigan.
Evelyn Cross did not look like a woman who tolerated nonsense. She was sixty-five, wore a impeccably tailored grey suit, and had dark eyes that looked like they could cut through concrete. She sat behind a massive mahogany desk, reviewing the video file Kelly had sent me on an iPad.
She played the slap three times. She played Luca’s cold statement about sole custody four times.
Then she set the iPad down, folded her hands, and looked at me over her reading glasses.
"Your mother was a brilliant woman, Jessi," Evelyn said, her voice like smooth gravel. "She had a heart of gold. I do not. If you hire me, we are not negotiating for a peaceful co-parenting agreement. We are going to war."
"They took a swing at my daughter," I said, leaning forward. "I don't want peace. I want them ruined."
A faint, sharp smile touched the corner of Evelyn’s lips. "Good. Now let's talk about the terrain."
Evelyn picked up a yellow legal pad and began tapping it with a pen. "Richard Vance—Wendy’s brother—is a heavy hitter in corporate law, but he doesn't do family court. He’ll hire a dog to come after you. By noon today, you will be served with an emergency petition for temporary custody alleging maternal instability, physical assault, and kidnapping."
"Kidnapping?" I blinked. "She’s my daughter."
"You took her from a family event without the father's consent after physically assaulting his mother," Evelyn explained matter-of-factly. "In the eyes of a conservative judge who doesn't know the full story, that looks bad. But we are going to hit them before they can even file."
Evelyn picked up her desk phone and dialed her assistant. "Sarah, draft an emergency petition for an Order of Protection for Jessi and Fiona Miller against Wendy Vance and Luca Miller. Attach Exhibit A: the video file. File for an ex parte emergency hearing at two p.m. today in Department 4."
She hung up, looking back at me. "Department 4 is Judge Harrison. She hates child abusers and she loathes arrogant wealthy families who think they own the courtroom. When she sees Wendy slap a two-year-old on camera, Wendy will be slapped with a restraining order that keeps her two hundred yards away from Fiona for a year."
"What about Luca?" I asked.
"Luca sat there and planned to use his child’s abuse to gain leverage in a divorce," Evelyn said coldly. "We will file for full legal and physical custody, child support, exclusive possession of your marital home, and a court-ordered psychological evaluation for him before he gets so much as a supervised hour with Fiona."
"Can we actually get him thrown out of the house?"
"It’s your house, Jessi," Evelyn reminded me, raising an eyebrow. "Or have you forgotten that your mother’s trust paid eighty percent of the down payment, and your name is the primary title holder?"
I took a deep breath. For two years, Luca had made me feel like I was a guest in our life. He managed the joint account, he made the social calendar, he let his mother decide where we spent holidays. I had forgotten how much ground I actually owned.
"Go back to Rachel's," Evelyn instructed. "Do not answer Luca's calls. Do not reply to his texts. Let him dig his own grave."
When I got back to Rachel’s apartment, my phone was blowing up again.
Not just Luca. Wendy had started texting me directly from a new number.
Wendy: "You dirty little opportunistic bitch. You put your hands on me in public! You have no idea who my family is. By the end of this week, Luca will have Fiona, and you'll be sleeping in a homeless shelter. You're broken, just like your pathetic mother was."
I didn't reply. I took a screenshot, uploaded it to the secure drive Evelyn had set up, and muted the phone.
At 1:45 p.m., I walked into the Cook County Courthouse alongside Evelyn.
The hallway outside Department 4 was quiet until a door down the hall opened, and Luca walked out flanked by an older man in a navy suit—Richard Vance—and a slick-looking younger attorney with slicked-back hair.
When Luca saw me, his face changed. He looked surprised, then angry, then smug. He adjusted his jacket and walked toward us, his lawyer trying to gently tug him back.
"Jessi," Luca said, stopping five feet away. "You're making a massive mistake. If you bring Fiona back home right now and apologize to my mother, I might persuade Uncle Richard not to press felony assault charges against you."
I stood beside Evelyn, looking at him as if he were a bug on the windshield.
"Did you bring your glasses out of the stew, Luca?" I asked softly. "Or are you still squinting through your mother’s lies?"
Luca’s face flushed bright red. "You crazy bitch—"
"Mr. Miller," Evelyn interrupted, stepping forward with the cold authority of an executioner. "I am Evelyn Cross. I represent your wife. If you speak another word directly to my client, I will add a civil harassment charge to the petition currently sitting on Judge Harrison's bench."
Richard Vance stepped up, his eyes narrowing as he recognized Evelyn. The smugness on the older lawyer’s face vanished instantly.
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"Evelyn," Richard said, his tone tight. "This is a private family matter. We can resolve this out of court."
"It stopped being a private family matter when your sister put her hands on my client's daughter on video, Richard," Evelyn replied coldly. "See you inside."
