Chapter 4 - The Hospital Room
Two hours later, I walked out of the Maricopa County Courthouse a free woman.
Judge Reynolds had not only dismissed all criminal charges against me with prejudice, but she had also ordered the immediate arrest of Brooklyn Harrington for misdemeanor assault and instigated a grand jury investigation into the entire Harrington family for criminal perjury and conspiracy.
My father wrapped his huge, strong arms around me on the courthouse steps, weeping tears of pure relief into my hair, while my mother held my hand as if she would never let it go again.
"Come home, Annie," my father whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Pack your things from that awful place and come back to Mesa."
"I will, Dad," I said softly, kissing his weathered cheek. "But first, I have one last stop to make."
Thirty minutes later, Victor Vance and I walked down the sterile, white hallway of the burn unit at Phoenix Indian Medical Center.
Two armed private security guards stood outside Room 408. When Vance presented the emergency civil preservation order issued by the court, the guards stepped aside, allowing us to push open the heavy door.
The room smelled strongly of antiseptic and iodine.
Callan lay in the hospital bed, hooked up to IV drips and heart monitors. The right side of his face, jaw, and neck were completely wrapped in thick, yellowed medical gauze. His left eye was open, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Beside his bed sat Melissa, looking exhausted, her designer dress wrinkled, her eyes red from crying.
When the door clicked shut, Melissa spun around. When she saw me standing there—wearing a clean pair of jeans and a simple sweater my mother had brought me—her eyes flashed with pure, unadulterated hatred.
"Get out," Melissa hissed, standing up and blocking the bed. "How dare you come here after what you did to my son? You ruined his face! You destroyed his life!"
"I didn't ruin his face, Melissa," I said, my voice quiet, steady, and completely devoid of fear. "His own arrogance did that. He thought he could hit me to impress you, and he learned that actions have consequences."
From the bed, Callan let out a low, muffled groan through his bandages. His left eye shifted toward me, filling with a mixture of pain, rage, and something that looked suspiciously like fear.
"Anastasia..." Callan rasped, his voice thick and raspy from the heavy painkillers. "You... you put my sister in jail... how could you..."
"Your sister put herself in jail, Callan," Vance stepped forward, pulling a thick stack of legal documents from his briefcase and setting them sharply on the bedside table. "Mr. Harrington, I am serving you with a formal petition for dissolution of marriage on grounds of physical cruelty, domestic violence, and fraud. We are also filing an immediate emergency freeze on all joint financial accounts and corporate trust assets."
Melissa let out a shrill, hysterical laugh. "Freeze our assets? Are you insane?! You came from a dusty hardware store in Mesa! You don't own a single dime of the Harrington Construction Group! The prenup you signed guarantees you walk away with nothing!"
I walked slowly toward the foot of Callan’s bed, looking down at the man I had stood beside at an altar just seven days prior.
"The prenup I signed had a very specific clause, Melissa," I said softly. "Section 14, Paragraph B. 'In the event that either spouse engages in documented acts of domestic violence or criminal misconduct during the marriage, the offending party forfeits all claims to sole asset protection, and the non-offending spouse is entitled to fifty percent of all marital appreciation and corporate valuation acquired during the union.'"
Melissa’s eyes went wide. She looked at her son’s bandaged face, then back at me. "That... that clause was only supposed to apply to you!"
"Your family’s lawyers wrote it," I replied, a cold, sharp smile spreading across my face. "They just never imagined that the person committing the violence would be your golden boy."
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Callan’s eye closed tightly as a tear leaked from the corner, soaking into his white bandages.
"You didn't just lose your case, Melissa," I said, leaning down until I was inches from her pale face. "You lost your son’s future. And by Monday morning, my attorney is taking half of your company."
