Chapter 7 - The Cornered Rats
By Wednesday morning, three days after the eviction, Landen’s life had completely unravelled.
He was staying in a cheap motel near the highway outside Richmond, his credit cards declined, his luxury vehicle repossessed by the leasing company due to missed payments funded by corporate accounts that were now frozen.
Naomi Fields had abandoned him forty-eight hours earlier. When she discovered that her personal bank accounts had been frozen by federal order as part of the embezzlement investigation, she had packed her bags and tried to flee to her parents' home in Atlanta—only to be intercepted at Richmond International Airport by state police and held on corporate fraud charges.
At 2:00 PM on Thursday, my phone rang.
It was Landen.
I answered, placing the call on speakerphone while Arthur Vance sat across my kitchen island taking notes.
“Elisa...” Landen’s voice was barely recognizable. It was raspy, broken, and trembling with desperate exhaustion. “Please... please talk to me.”
“I’m listening, Landen,” I said calmly, sipping my tea.
“They arrested Naomi at the airport,” he sobbed openly into the phone. “My credit cards don't work. My car is gone. The motel is threatening to throw me out in an hour. Elisa... I have nothing left. Please... for the sake of thirteen years of marriage, for Cedric... stop this.”
“Thirteen years of marriage, Landen?” I asked, my voice turning to ice. “Is that the marriage where you spent eighteen months funneling $1.8 million into a Cayman account with another woman while telling me we couldn't afford a summer camp for our son?”
Silence hummed over the line.
“You... you know about the Cayman account?” Landen stammered, his breath catching in his throat.
“I didn't just know about it, Landen,” I informed him. “An hour ago, the Grand Cayman High Court executed an emergency Mareva injunction based on my filing. The $1.8 million in N&L Creative Strategy Ltd has been seized and returned to the parent corporate treasury of EHB Holdings.”
A loud, choked cry came through the speaker.
“You took everything...” Landen wept. “You took my house, my company, my money... you destroyed me!”
“You destroyed yourself, Landen,” I corrected him firmly. “You thought I was just a quiet wife who looked at spreadsheets and stayed out of your way. You forgot that my job is finding hidden liabilities and liquidating them.”
“What do you want from me?!” he screamed in pure desperation.
“I want you to sign the full, uncontested divorce agreement prepared by Arthur Vance,” I said. “Full legal and physical custody of Cedric to me. Zero spousal support. Zero claim to EHB Holdings or Bradley Commerce Creative. Complete surrender of all marital assets.”
“And if I don't sign?” he choked out.
May you like
Arthur Vance leaned toward the microphone. “If you don't sign by 5:00 PM today, Mr. Bradley, the Commonwealth’s Attorney will formally file twelve counts of grand larceny, bank fraud, and corporate embezzlement against you. You will be looking at fifteen to twenty years in state prison.”
The line went completely dead.
