Chapter 8 - The Legal Battle
The deposition took place three weeks later in a sleek corporate conference room in the city. I wore a tailored cream suit—a gift from Evelyn—and wore my hair up. I looked healthy, confident, and completely in control.
When Daniel walked into the room with his lawyers, he looked unrecognizable. The polished, arrogant CEO was gone. His suit looked loose, his eyes were sunken with dark circles, and his hair was unkempt. The pressure of his public downfall had taken a massive toll on him.
When his eyes met mine, I saw a flicker of the old anger, but it was quickly replaced by desperation.
"Clara," he pleaded, stepping forward before his lawyer could stop him. "Please. Can we just talk privately? This is out of hand. My mother is facing prison time. The company is bankrupt. We can fix this. We can be a family again."
I sat down at the table, looking at him with a cool, detached calmness that surprised even myself. "We were never a family, Daniel. I was your trophy, and then I was your servant. Lily was just a PR asset to you."
"That's not true!" he protested, his voice cracking.
"Quiet, Daniel," his lead attorney snapped, pulling him back into his chair.
The deposition lasted four grueling hours. Daniel’s lawyers tried desperately to find a loophole in the prenuptial agreement, but Diane Vance was ruthless. She laid out the evidence chronologically: the medical records showing my severe postpartum blood loss, the photos of the dirty water splashed on my feet, the audio recordings of Vivian’s threats, and the financial records linking Daniel’s corporate accounts to Dr. Harrison’s offshore bribes.
By the end of the afternoon, Daniel’s attorney looked at his client and sighed, closing his briefcase.
"We are willing to settle," the lawyer announced flatly. "Full legal and physical custody to Mrs. Hale. Daniel will have supervised visitation rights, limited to two hours a month at a state-designated facility, contingent on a mandatory psychological evaluation."
Daniel looked up, horror in his eyes. "Supervised? She's my daughter!"
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"You stood by while your mother tried to chemically lobotomize your wife, Mr. Hale," Diane Vance said, her voice like ice. "You are lucky you aren't sitting in a jail cell next to her. Sign the papers, or we go to a public trial next week, and I will personally ensure the media gets copies of every single piece of evidence we have."
Daniel looked at the pen in his hand. He looked at me, realizing that his power over me was completely, irrevocably gone. With a trembling hand, he signed his name on the dotted line.
