Chapter 5 - The Legal Counter-Offensive
By sunrise, Nathan was gone, having apparently realized that screaming at a locked oak door in a torrential downpour wasn't going to reactivate his American Express black card.
I woke up refreshed, made a pot of single-origin Ethiopian coffee, and sat at the kitchen island to review the morning papers and financial reports. The digital notification bell on my laptop chimed. It was an email from David Vance containing the draft of our formal divorce petition, alongside a financial injunction freezing all corporate holdings linked to Nathan’s secondary business ventures.
“That was fast,” I muttered to myself.
My phone rang immediately afterward. It was David himself.
“Claire, we have a development,” David said, sounding slightly amused. “Nathan’s attorney just reached out to my office. They aren't contesting the divorce grounds—they know we have airtight proof of adultery and financial dissipation. But they are desperately trying to negotiate access to his corporate accounts.”
“And what did you tell them?”
“I told them that my client—you—is willing to offer a settlement under one strict condition.”
I took a sip of my coffee. “I’m listening.”
“Nathan signs over every single share of his minority stake in Vanguard Logistics, plus full relinquishment of any claims to your personal trust or pre-marital real estate holdings. In exchange, you lift the freeze on his personal checking account—giving him exactly ten thousand dollars to cover his immediate relocation expenses.”
Ten thousand dollars. Barely enough to rent a studio apartment in a decent neighborhood for three months. It was a humiliating comedown for a man who used to fly private jets to corporate retreats.
“Does he have a choice?” I asked.
May you like
“None whatsoever,” David laughed. “His mistress already packed her bags and moved out of the Midtown condo last night when she realized his cards weren't coming back. Nathan is currently crashing on a colleague’s couch in Alpharetta, eating instant ramen and wondering how his entire empire vanished in forty-eight hours.”
“Send him the papers,” I said. “Tell him he has until 5:00 PM to sign, or I drop the forensic audit straight to the federal tax authorities.”
