Chapter 5 - The Deposition
Three weeks later. Vance & Associates Law Offices, Montgomery Street, San Francisco.
The high-rise conference room was cold, quiet, and filled with sunlight reflecting off the bay.
Sitting on one side of the long glass conference table was Julian Vance, dressed in a sharp, tailored charcoal suit, flanked by Marcus Vance and two junior litigation partners.
Sitting on the opposite side were Richard, Elaine, Vanessa, and Tyler, along with a nervous, overworked public defense lawyer named Steven Vance (no relation), whom they had hired using the last remaining balance on Richard’s credit cards.
In the corner sat a court reporter, her fingers hovering over the stenography machine.
Steven Vance cleared his throat, setting a paper pad down. "Mr. Vance, Ms. Vance... before we begin the formal deposition, my clients wish to explore the possibility of a private settlement and full retraction of the blog article."
Marcus Vance didn't even look up from his legal tablet. "There are no private settlement negotiations on the table, Steven. We are here to record swort statements regarding the libelous claims published on October 12th."
Marcus turned his gaze to Elaine Vance, who was sitting rigid, her hands clutched tightly around a tissue.
"Mrs. Vance," Marcus said calmly, pressing a button on a digital recorder. "We have received the subpoenaed submission records from Bay Area Corporate Watch. The submission was uploaded from an IP address registered to 1422 Sycamore Lane—the current residence of your daughter, Vanessa, and her fiancé, Tyler Morton."
Vanessa gasped, looking at her lawyer in panic.
"Furthermore," Marcus continued, laying a bank statement on the table, "the forty-nine dollar premium publication fee for the article was paid using a Visa debit card ending in 4102, registered under the name of Elaine Vance."
Elaine’s face went entirely white. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
"Mrs. Vance," Marcus asked, leaning forward. "Did you authorize your daughter to use your debit card to publish false allegations that Julian Vance stole corporate funds and physically assaulted you?"
"I... I..." Elaine stammered, looking frantically at her husband. "Richard! Say something!"
Richard didn't move. He sat hunched over in his chair, staring blankly at the glass surface of the table. The fire, the rage, the entitlement that had defined him for decades had been entirely extinguished.
"Answer the question, Mrs. Vance," Marcus pressed relentlessly. "Did Julian Vance ever physically assault you?"
"No..." Elaine whispered, lowering her head.
"Did Julian Vance ever steal property or funds from your family?"
"No..."
"Did Julian Vance give your daughter fifteen thousand dollars six months ago out of his personal account?"
"Yes..."
"Did you go to his house on the night of October 8th and demand that he pay an additional one hundred and forty thousand dollars for a luxury wedding?"
"Yes..."
"And when he refused," Marcus said, his voice dropping into a register of devastating clarity, "did you tell him he was no longer part of your family?"
Elaine broke down, sobbing uncontrollably into her hands. "We were desperate! Vanessa was crying! The wedding was falling apart! We just wanted him to help us like he always did!"
"He always helped you because he loved you!" Marcus shouted, slamming his hand onto the table, his voice echoing off the glass walls. "And you treated his love like a legal obligation! You publicly slandered his business, risked the livelihoods of his forty employees, and lied to the press because he dared to set a boundary!"
Vanessa jumped up from her chair, her face contorted with rage. "He ruined my life! He canceled my wedding! I had to call two hundred people and tell them it was off! Tyler’s parents won't even speak to me now!"
Julian, who had remained completely silent throughout the two-hour deposition, slowly raised his eyes.
He looked at Vanessa. He saw the shallow, self-absorbed girl she had always been—a girl who had been shielded from every consequence by parents who valued appearance over character.
"Vanessa," Julian said, his voice quiet, steady, and terrifyingly calm.
Vanessa froze, startled by the tone of his voice.
"Your wedding wasn't canceled because I refused to pay for it," Julian stated, looking her straight in the eye. "Your wedding was canceled because you and Tyler tried to live a life you couldn't afford, using money that wasn't yours, to impress people who don't care about you."
Julian turned his gaze to Tyler.
"You stood in my dining room three weeks ago," Julian said. "You watched my father bark threats at me. You watched my sister call me disgusting. You knew you didn't have the money for that venue, yet you let them attack me so you wouldn't have to admit your own financial failure."
Tyler lowered his head, unable to meet Julian's eyes.
Julian stood up from the conference table, buttoning his suit jacket. He looked down at his parents, his sister, and her fiancé.
"My legal counsel will present the final consent decree tomorrow," Julian announced calmly. "The suit for five million dollars will be suspended under three conditions."
Steven Vance looked up quickly. "What conditions?"
"First," Julian listed, "a full, signed public retraction and apology published on the same media platforms within twenty-four hours."
"Second," Julian continued, "a complete, legally binding release of all administrative, personal, and financial claims regarding my business, my properties, and my personal estate."
"And third?" Richard asked, his voice trembling as he looked up at his son for the first time.
Julian picked up his leather briefcase.
May you like
"Third," Julian said softly, "you never contact me again. Not for money. Not for holidays. Not for emergencies. As far as I am concerned, the family you threatened to destroy no longer exists."
Julian walked out of the conference room, the heavy glass door sliding shut behind him, leaving his family in absolute, echoing silence.
