Chapter 13 - The Terms of Surrender

Marcus didn't even blink. He pulled a pre-drafted settlement agreement from his briefcase. He had anticipated this exact moment.
"Here are our terms for the civil and marital settlement," Marcus said, sliding the document across the table.
The Terms of Surrender:
Full Relinquishment: Daniel Hale waives all rights to any marital assets, including the three dental clinics, their cash reserves, and any shared investment portfolios.
The Oak Ridge Property: Daniel signs over his half of the equity in his mother's brick colonial to Evelyn Carter immediately.
Debt Assumption: Daniel personally assumes the outstanding $140,000 in credit card debt he accumulated under the fraudulent corporate accounts.
No Alimony: Daniel waives all current and future claims to spousal support.
Full Cooperation: Daniel will provide a sworn, written statement detailing his mother Margaret's assault on Evelyn, agreeing to testify truthfully for the prosecution in her criminal trial.
Daniel gasped as he skimmed the terms. "You want me to testify against my own mother? She did this for us! She did this to protect our family!"
"She did this because she is a violent, entitled sociopath," Marcus retorted. "And if you don't sign this, we walk out of this room, file the corporate embezzlement charges with the Fairfield County Prosecutor, and hand the IRS a complete audit of your tax fraud. You won't just be broke, Daniel. You'll be spending the next five to ten years in a state penitentiary."
"Frank!" Daniel screamed, turning to his lawyer. "Tell them they can't do this! It's blackmail!"
"It's not blackmail, Daniel. It's a plea negotiation," Frank said, his voice devoid of any hope. "And frankly, they have you dead to rights. If you go to trial on the embezzlement and tax fraud charges, you will lose. And you will go to prison. If you sign this, you walk away with your freedom. No asset, no money, but you stay out of a cell."
Daniel stared at the paper. His hand shook so violently he could barely hold the pen. He looked at me one last time, hoping to find a shred of the soft, accommodating woman he had married.
But that woman had died on Margaret Hale’s white oak floor.
May you like
With a choked sob, Daniel pressed the pen to the paper and signed his name.
The parasite was officially detached.