Chapter 3 - The Mistress Who Thought She Won
Simone Vance believed she was stepping into an upgraded life.
She was twenty-six, an associate account executive at Apex Media who had spent months listening to Gregory complain about his “dull, demanding wife.” Gregory had promised her a shared luxury lifestyle: the Oakridge house, luxury vacations, and an executive promotion once he secured the managing partnership.
Instead, by Tuesday afternoon, Gregory was living out of a budget extended-stay hotel with three cardboard boxes and a frozen bank account.
I learned the details through Victoria, who had served formal discovery demands and asset freeze notices to every financial institution associated with Gregory.
Because Gregory had transferred nearly eighty thousand dollars from our marital accounts into Simone’s private savings account to cover her car payments and luxury shopping sprees, Victoria named Simone as a third-party respondent in our fraudulent conveyance filing.
Every dollar he had spent on her was subject to clawback under state marital property laws.
On Wednesday morning, Simone stormed into my boutique design studio in the arts district.
I had leased the studio space forty-eight hours after walking out of the restaurant, using my untouched business reserves. Four of my former high-profile corporate clients had already signed transition contracts with me the moment they heard I was reopening full-time.
The bell above the studio door jingled.
Simone stood in the center of the showroom, wearing designer sunglasses and carrying a cream leather handbag Gregory had bought her with my money.
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” she spat, pushing her sunglasses onto her head.
My design assistant paused her tablet and looked up in shock.
I didn’t even stand up from my drafting table. I carefully set down my stylus and looked at her.
“Can I help you with a branding consultation, Ms. Vance? Our hourly rate is five hundred dollars.”
“You froze my personal bank account!” she hissed, stepping closer. “You had your lawyer serve my landlord! I have an eviction notice because the rent check bounced!”
“Correction,” I said pleasantly. “My lawyer froze the stolen marital funds Gregory improperly funneled to you. If your rent check bounced, it’s because you were paying your living expenses with money that legally belonged to my household.”
“Gregory loves me!” she snapped, her voice trembling with rage. “He was miserable with you for years! You forced him into a boring, pathetic domestic trap!”
I leaned back in my ergonomic chair and smiled softly.
“If he loves you so much, why didn’t he pay your rent from his own checking account this morning?”
Simone froze.
“He told you his personal accounts were temporarily locked because of a ‘clerical error,’ didn't he?” I asked gently.
Her eyes flickered with doubt.
“Let me tell you what Gregory actually is, Simone,” I continued, standing up and walking toward her. “Gregory is an empty suit. He didn't build his portfolio; I designed it. He didn't buy that Oakridge estate; my family trust paid for it. He didn't earn his senior partnership pitch; he stole my campaign concepts from my private cloud.”
I stopped two feet in front of her.
“You didn’t steal a prize, darling. You stole a dependent. And now you get to support him.”
Simone looked at me, her mouth opening and closing without sound.
Her phone buzzed.
It was a text from the HR department at Apex Media, requesting her immediate presence in the board conference room regarding an internal compliance investigation.
May you like
Her face went paper-white.
“Have a wonderful day, Simone,” I said, pointing toward the glass door. “And please make sure Gregory returns my grandmother’s vintage silver watch when he leaves your hotel room.”
