Chapter 4 - The Legal Leverage
Two weeks later, I sat across from Ethan and his high-priced lawyer, Richard Vance, in a glass-walled conference room downtown. Ethan looked exhausted. The dark circles under his eyes showed he hadn't been sleeping, likely staying at a cheap motel since his bank accounts were temporarily frozen by my filing.
"Lauren," Richard Vance began, adjusting his tie. "My client is willing to offer a 50/50 split of the marital assets. We believe this is a fair and amicable way to conclude a tragic situation."
I didn't say a word. I looked at my lawyer, Sophia Chen, a sharp woman who specialized in high-asset divorces. Sophia smiled, placing a thick manila folder on the table.
"Mr. Vance, your client seems to be under the impression that he has leverage," Sophia said smoothly. "We have compiled a complete forensic audit of the marital estate. Over the past year, your client has dissipated over $45,000 in marital funds on hotels, dinners, and luxury gifts for a Ms. Brooke Davis. Furthermore..."
Sophia opened the folder to reveal high-resolution screenshots of the backyard security footage, captured from three different angles.
"We have undisputed video evidence of marital misconduct occurring on the primary residential property. In this state, a judge takes a very dim view of a spouse bringing an paramour into the family home, let alone using joint assets to fund the affair. If we go to trial, we will subpoena Ms. Davis, her husband, and we will introduce these videos into the public record."
Ethan leaned forward, his hands shaking. "Lauren, please. If this goes to trial, my firm will fire me. I’m up for partner."
"You should have thought about that before you turned my backyard into a motel, Ethan," I said, looking him dead in the eye. "I built that house with you. My father’s passing gave us the money for that pool. You thought I was weak because I didn't scream. You thought because I didn't make a scene, I would just take it."
"I'm sorry," he whispered, a tear finally escaping his eye. "I am so sorry, Lauren."
"I don't care about your sorrow, Ethan. I care about your signature," I said, pushing the final divorce decree and property transfer deed toward him. "Sign over the house, the pool, your retirement portfolio, and the remaining balance of the joint account. You keep your truck—assuming you can pay a dive team to extract the key fob from the bottom of the pool."
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His lawyer looked at the documents, then looked at Ethan, slowly shaking his head. "Ethan... if they take this to court, you lose everything anyway, plus your job. Sign it."
With a trembling hand, Ethan took the pen and signed his name away.
