Chapter 4 - The Legal War Begins
Two weeks later.
The high-rise office of Vance, Sterling & Hayes overlooked the frozen expanse of the Chicago Loop. Inside the corner conference room, the air was thick with legal tension.
Claire sat at the long marble table. She looked vastly different than she had two weeks ago. She was still recovering physically, but her pale face had regained its color. She wore a crisp black blazer, her hair pulled back into a neat, professional chignon. Beside her sat Arthur Hayes, a fifty-year-old veteran divorce attorney known in legal circles as "The Pitbull of Cook County."
Across the table sat Grant Morgan and his attorney, Harold Vance—a smug, silver-haired legal shark who charged a thousand dollars an hour.
Grant looked terrible.
The handsome, polished investment banker was gone. His eyes were sunken, dark circles bruised beneath them. He had lost weight, his expensive suit hanging loosely off his shoulders. He couldn't look Claire in the eye; every time her gaze drifted toward him, he stared intensely at his gold pen.
"Let’s review where we stand," Arthur Hayes began, slapping a heavy folder onto the table. "Mr. Morgan has been formally indicted by the Cook County Grand Jury for criminal accomplice liability and reckless endangerment. His mistress, Ms. Blake, is currently sitting in Cook County Jail on a $250,000 bond, facing felony charges."
"Those criminal charges are baseless and will be dismissed before trial," Harold Vance scoffed smoothly. "My client did not throw the cake, nor did he instruct Ms. Blake to do so. He was a bystander."
"A bystander who stood by while his heavily pregnant wife was violently assaulted, resulting in an emergency C-section and premature birth," Hayes shot back coolly. "We have twenty-nine witnesses from Bellini's, including four waitstaff who have testified under oath that Mr. Morgan actively laughed when the first piece of cake struck my client."
Grant winced, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his pen.
"Regardless of the criminal proceedings," Vance interrupted quickly, "we are here to discuss the civil dissolution of marriage and custody."
"There is no discussion on custody," Claire spoke up, her voice clear, sharp, and resolute.
Grant finally raised his head, looking at her with desperate, pleading eyes. "Claire, please... just let me talk to you. Just five minutes without the lawyers. Please."
"You had five years to talk to me, Grant," Claire said coldly. "You spent those five years lying."
"I made a mistake!" Grant cried, his voice breaking. "Sienna was nothing! She was a distraction! I love you, Claire! I love our daughter! I haven't even been allowed to hold Hope yet! Do you know what that feels like?"
"You don't get to talk about Hope," Claire replied, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Hope was fighting for her life in an incubator for ten days because of your 'distraction.' You don't deserve to hold her."
"Let's stick to the numbers," Hayes interjected, sliding a legal document across the table. "Here are our terms for the divorce settlement."
Harold Vance picked up the document, scanning it quickly. As his eyes moved down the page, his smooth composure melted into absolute horror.
"This is absurd!" Vance exploded. "You’re asking for ninety percent of the marital assets! The Lincoln Park townhouse, the vacation house in Lake Geneva, the entire investment portfolio, and seventy percent of his future earnings in child support and alimony?!"
"That is correct," Hayes smiled thinly. "Mr. Morgan systematically embezzled over $180,000 from the joint marital accounts to fund his extramarital affair over the past six months. That constitutes dissipation of marital assets under Illinois law. Furthermore, my client is suffering from severe emotional trauma, physical injury, and astronomical medical bills for the baby's NICU care."
"Grant was fired from his firm!" Vance argued loudly. "He has no current income! How can he pay seventy percent of non-existent earnings?"
"Then I suggest he sell his luxury sports car and his Rolex collection," Claire said without a shred of mercy. "Or perhaps his mother can pay for it."
"Claire, you're destroying me!" Grant yelled, slamming his hand on the table, tears spilling down his cheeks. "I have nothing left! The firm fired me, my reputation is ruined, I can't even walk down the street without people filming me and shouting at me! Is that what you want? To put me on the street?"
Claire leaned forward across the table, looking directly into the eyes of the man she had once loved with all her heart.
"You put me in an emergency room bleeding to death while your friends laughed," Claire whispered, her voice carrying a cold weight that froze the room. "You don't get to complain about the consequences of the fire you started."
Hayes tapped the paper. "You have forty-eight hours to sign the preliminary asset transfer, Mr. Vance. If you refuse, we go to trial. And trust me, in front of a Cook County jury who has all seen the video of your client laughing at his pregnant wife, we won't just ask for ninety percent. We will take everything he owns, including his future inheritance."
Grant collapsed back into his leather chair, burying his face in his hands, weeping openly.
Claire stood up, buttoned her blazer, and picked up her handbag. She didn't offer a second glance to the broken man crying at the table.
May you like
She walked out of the conference room, out of the high-rise building, and into the afternoon sunshine.
For the first time in weeks, she took a deep, full breath of fresh air. She was no longer just surviving. She was fighting back.
