Chapter 6 · His Fake Trip Cost Him Everything

Chapter 6

The living room was quiet. The bag of mixed nuts she'd left on the coffee table sat untouched. She'd stormed out so fast she forgot to take her peace offering. I put the nuts away in the kitchen cabinet.

Then I checked my phone. Eric had sent a long text.

Eric: [Nina, let me be crystal clear. I am not getting a divorce. If you keep this up, I'll have my lawyer file a harassment charge.]

Eric: [That stunt at the hospital? Laura told me everything. Barging into a maternity ward. Have you lost all sense of decency?]

I read the whole thing, then replied with a single word: [Cool.] Then I blocked his number.

I opened my chat with Olivia.

"Olivia, you said you had a client who runs a legal commentary channel?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Put me in touch. I've got a story for her."

"What story?"

"A man goes on a business trip and comes home a father. True story. First-hand material."

"Holy shit, are you serious?"

"Dead serious."

"Nina, you know once something like that goes out, there's no taking it back."

"I know."

"Alright. I'll connect you tomorrow."

The line went dead. I leaned against the kitchen counter and cracked open one of the nuts.

Not bad at all. Thanks for the snack.

*****

The third day, Killian called. "Ms. Sullivan, I've finished the trace. Beyond the 65 thousand to his mother, Eric made three more large purchases over six months. A car in Laura Bennett's name, 45 thousand. Furniture, 25 thousand."

"And a 15 thousand dollar cash withdrawal with no documented purpose," Killian continued.

"What's the grand total?" I asked.

"Including the earlier 120 thousand, approximately 280 thousand dollars."

Our total marital savings over three years of marriage came to about 300 thousand. He'd spent 280 thousand of it on his other life.

"Is the evidence chain solid?"

"Airtight. Bank statements, transfer records, vehicle registration, all secured."

"Good."

"Ms. Sullivan, one more thing."

"Go ahead."

"Eric retained a lawyer today. James Smith. He's well-known around Millbrook for divorce cases, particularly asset protection."

"I thought Eric said he wasn't getting divorced."

"His lawyer reached out to me. He says it's not about divorce. It's about mediation."

"What are his terms?"

"Eric's proposal is that you give up the apartment, waive all claims to marital assets, and accept a 25 thousand dollar payout. A clean split."

His counter-offer was 25 grand. This man had burned through 280 thousand dollars of our money on his mistress and their child, and his counter-offer was 25 grand to make me disappear.

I laughed. "No mediation, Mr. Shaw. File the suit."

"Understood. I'll go to the courthouse tomorrow."

That afternoon at two, I got a call I wasn't expecting. The screen read "Dad." Richard Sullivan.

I picked up.

"Dad."

"How's the case going?"

"Mr. Shaw's handling it."

"Good." He paused. "Nina, your mother misses you."

"I know."

"When are you coming home?"

"After the divorce is final."

"Are you coming back to the Sullivan Group?"

"Haven't decided yet."

"Your 15 percent stake hasn't been touched. Three years of uncollected dividends have piled up to about eight and a half million. If you need the money..."

"Dad, I told you. I'm not relying on the Sullivan fortune."

"You married that lowlife. You know exactly what kind of man he is."

I was quiet for a second.

"Dad, I can handle this."

"I know you can." His voice carried a restraint that almost, but not quite, hid the ache beneath it. "But you don't have to carry everything alone."

"I'm not alone. I have a lawyer."

"Alright. Call me if you need anything."

"I will."

After hanging up, I stood by the window for a while. Down in the courtyard, that same elderly couple was out walking their dog again.

Did I really not need the Sullivan money?

No, this fight, at least, I was going to win on my own terms.

Eric came home, but not alone. He'd brought his mother and a man I'd never seen before. Mid-40s, round face, wire-rimmed glasses, a leather portfolio tucked under one arm.

"Nina, this is James," Eric said, his voice noticeably harder than it had been the past two days. "Sit down. Let's talk."

I leaned against the kitchen doorframe and watched the three of them arrange themselves on the couch like a tribunal. "About what?"

Chapter 6

Then I checked my phone. Eric had sent a long text.

Eric: [Nina, let me be crystal clear. I am not getting a divorce. If you keep this up, I'll have my lawyer file a harassment charge.]

Eric: [That stunt at the hospital? Laura told me everything. Barging into a maternity ward. Have you lost all sense of decency?]

I read the whole thing, then replied with a single word: [Cool.] Then I blocked his number.

I opened my chat with Olivia.

"Olivia, you said you had a client who runs a legal commentary channel?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Put me in touch. I've got a story for her."

"What story?"

"A man goes on a business trip and comes home a father. True story. First-hand material."

"Holy shit, are you serious?"

"Dead serious."

"Nina, you know once something like that goes out, there's no taking it back."

"I know."

"Alright. I'll connect you tomorrow."

The line went dead. I leaned against the kitchen counter and cracked open one of the nuts.

Not bad at all. Thanks for the snack.

*****

"And a 15 thousand dollar cash withdrawal with no documented purpose," Killian continued.

"What's the grand total?" I asked.

"Including the earlier 120 thousand, approximately 280 thousand dollars."

Our total marital savings over three years of marriage came to about 300 thousand. He'd spent 280 thousand of it on his other life.

"Is the evidence chain solid?"

"Airtight. Bank statements, transfer records, vehicle registration, all secured."

"Good."

"Ms. Sullivan, one more thing."

"Go ahead."

"Eric retained a lawyer today. James Smith. He's well-known around Millbrook for divorce cases, particularly asset protection."

"I thought Eric said he wasn't getting divorced."

"His lawyer reached out to me. He says it's not about divorce. It's about mediation."

"What are his terms?"

"Eric's proposal is that you give up the apartment, waive all claims to marital assets, and accept a 25 thousand dollar payout. A clean split."

His counter-offer was 25 grand. This man had burned through 280 thousand dollars of our money on his mistress and their child, and his counter-offer was 25 grand to make me disappear.

I laughed. "No mediation, Mr. Shaw. File the suit."

"Understood. I'll go to the courthouse tomorrow."

That afternoon at two, I got a call I wasn't expecting. The screen read "Dad." Richard Sullivan.

I picked up.

"Dad."

"How's the case going?"

"Mr. Shaw's handling it."

"Good." He paused. "Nina, your mother misses you."

"I know."

"When are you coming home?"

"After the divorce is final."

"Are you coming back to the Sullivan Group?"

"Haven't decided yet."

"Your 15 percent stake hasn't been touched. Three years of uncollected dividends have piled up to about eight and a half million. If you need the money..."

"Dad, I told you. I'm not relying on the Sullivan fortune."

"You married that lowlife. You know exactly what kind of man he is."

I was quiet for a second.

"Dad, I can handle this."

"I know you can." His voice carried a restraint that almost, but not quite, hid the ache beneath it. "But you don't have to carry everything alone."

"I'm not alone. I have a lawyer."

"Alright. Call me if you need anything."

"I will."

After hanging up, I stood by the window for a while. Down in the courtyard, that same elderly couple was out walking their dog again.

Did I really not need the Sullivan money?

No, this fight, at least, I was going to win on my own terms.

Eric came home, but not alone. He'd brought his mother and a man I'd never seen before. Mid-40s, round face, wire-rimmed glasses, a leather portfolio tucked under one arm.

"Nina, this is James," Eric said, his voice noticeably harder than it had been the past two days. "Sit down. Let's talk."

I leaned against the kitchen doorframe and watched the three of them arrange themselves on the couch like a tribunal. "About what?"