Chapter 6 - Retaliation
The morning sun rose over a blanket of fresh snow, casting brilliant pink light through the frosted windows. But downstairs in the estate's grand study, the atmosphere was venomous.
Bianca had not left. Legally advised by her defense attorney over an early morning call, she had locked herself in the master suite until 9:00 AM, emerging dressed in an impeccable cream pantsuit, sunglasses covering her bloodshot eyes, accompanied by Arthur Vance, a notoriously ruthless family law attorney.
"You can't throw me out, Ethan," Bianca declared, crossing her legs on the leather sofa opposite his desk. "Under state law, this is the marital residence. And I am legally their stepmother."
Ethan sat behind his mahogany desk, unmoving. His laptop was open, displaying live feeds of forensic accountants combing through the family trusts.
"You have thirty minutes to pack your personal belongings," Ethan said coldly. "After that, my team will dump your luggage at the front gates."
Arthur Vance leaned forward, placing a leather briefcase on the desk. "Mr. Vance, let’s not be hasty. If you attempt an illegal eviction or make false public accusations regarding child abuse, my client will be forced to file for an immediate emergency custody injunction. Furthermore, she will go to the press with allegations of spousal abandonment and financial coercion."
"Custody?" Ethan let out a dark, humorless laugh. "She starved four five-year-olds in an unheated room while spending three hundred thousand dollars on jewelry."
"Can you prove she did it?" the lawyer smirked. "Mrs. Vance was hosting an authorized charity event. The staff had the day off. It was a terrible misunderstanding—a miscommunication between the domestic help and the nanny service. A civil court judge will see an overworked mother who made an administrative error."
Bianca smiled faintly, adjusting her diamond rings. "You think you can ruin me, Ethan? I know where every dollar in your hedge fund flows. I know about the offshore accounts in the Caymans Clara set up before she died. If you drag my name through the mud, I will drag Clara’s name through every tabloid in America."
Ethan’s eyes turned pitch-black. "You mention Clara's name one more time, Bianca, and you won't walk out of here."
May you like
"Try me," she sneered, leaning in. "You have no video. You have no proof. I personally oversaw the maintenance of the security system last month. The west wing cameras have been 'offline' for routine rewiring for six weeks. It's your word against mine."
***
