Chapter 7 - The Deposition Table
The conference rooms at Vane & Sterling were designed to intimidate. The walls were lined with dark mahogany wainscoting, the lighting was a crisp, clinical white, and the thick Persian rugs swallowed the sound of footsteps so completely that entering felt like walking into a cathedral of corporate law.
I sat at the head of the polished oak table, flanked by Marcus Vance and a battery of two junior forensic accountants whose laptops were open, displaying neat, merciless graphs of financial embezzlement.
Across the table sat Daniel, flanked by a court-appointed public defender who looked like he wished he was anywhere else on planet Earth. Olivia and Ashley weren't even permitted in the room; they sat outside in the hallway, barred by court order from disrupting the proceedings.
Daniel looked twenty pounds lighter than he had a week ago. His hair was uncombed, his cheeks were hollow, and his eyes darted nervously around the room as if expecting the ceiling to fall in.
"Mr. Moretti," Marcus Vance began, his voice smooth, deep, and dripping with controlled menace. "Let us review Exhibit A through J. Over the past thirty-six months, bank records indicate you transferred a total of four hundred and eighty-two thousand dollars from joint marital accounts into offshore holding vehicles and personal discretionary cards used exclusively for gambling, high-end retail purchases, and unauthorized third-party support."
"That was… that was for business networking," Daniel stammered, his voice cracking miserably. "Venture capital investments. It’s normal marital expenditure."
One of the forensic accountants adjusted his glasses, tapped a key on his laptop, and slid a printed document across the table.
"According to these itemized statements, Mr. Moretti, 'venture capital investments' included twenty-two thousand dollars at an exclusive poker club in downtown Chicago, fourteen thousand dollars on designer watches, and six trips to luxury resorts in Miami where no business associates were present," the accountant stated flatly. "Furthermore, we have documented fraudulent loan applications signed under your wife's forged corporate credentials."
Daniel swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing violently. He looked across the table at me, his expression shifting from defensive arrogance to pathetic, pleading desperation.
"Sarah… please," Daniel whispered, leaning forward. "We were married for seven years. We built a life together. You can't just throw me out on the street with nothing. Think of Emma. She needs her father."
I didn't blink. I didn't shift in my ergonomic leather chair. I simply looked at him the way a senior partner looks at an intern who just committed a catastrophic compliance error.
"My daughter needs a father who protects her from the cold, Daniel—not one who locks her on a balcony while he gorges himself on stolen seafood," I said, my voice completely devoid of emotion. "She needs a role model, not a parasite who views hard work as a personal inconvenience."
"We can settle this," Daniel’s public defender hastily interjected, sensing the total collapse of their case. "My client is willing to waive all claims to spousal maintenance if Mrs. Moretti agrees to drop the criminal forgery charges related to the loan applications and provides a modest transition stipend of—"
"There will be no transition stipend," Marcus Vance interrupted sharply, leaning forward and resting his palms flat on the table. "Here are the terms of our settlement offer, counsel. Take them or leave them."
Marcus slid a single sheet of paper across the polished oak.
Settlement Terms: 1. Immediate, uncontested granting of divorce on grounds of marital waste and financial fraud. 2. Sole legal and physical custody of the minor child, Emma Hayes, granted permanently to Sarah Hayes. Zero visitation rights for Daniel Moretti pending psychological evaluation and supervised-only supervision. 3. Total forfeiture of all claims to marital property, corporate assets, trust funds, and future earnings. 4. Immediate signing of a binding non-disclosure agreement prohibiting Daniel Moretti, Olivia Moretti, and Ashley Moretti from ever contacting, harassing, or speaking publicly about Sarah Hayes or her family. 5. Full admission of liability regarding financial dissipation, paving the way for immediate civil restitution.
Daniel stared down at the paper as if it were a death warrant.
"This… this destroys me," Daniel whispered, a tear finally spilling over his lower eyelid and tracking down his hollow cheek. "I’ll have nothing. I’ll have to get a real job."
"Yes, Daniel," I said softly, standing up from my chair and buttoning my blazer. "Welcome to the real world. You’re going to find it terribly exhausting."
I turned toward the door, leaving my lawyers to finish the execution. As I walked out into the hallway, Olivia rushed toward me like a cornered animal, but two private security guards stepped smoothly into her path, blocking her instantly.
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"Sarah! You monster!" Olivia screamed, her voice echoing off the mahogany walls. "You'll pay for this! You hear me?! You’ll pay!"
I didn't even turn around. I kept walking toward the private elevator, my heels clicking rhythmically against the floor, stepping out into the bright Chicago sunlight with my head held high.
