Chapter 7 - The Parasite's Petition
The illusion that Nathan would simply accept his defeat and fade into obscurity evaporated exactly three months later.
It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon. I was sitting in my corner office overlooking the Charles River, reviewing a complex surgical plan for a set of premature twins, when my executive assistant buzzed in. She sounded unusually tense.
"Dr. Whitmore, there is a process server in the lobby. He insists he has to hand you the documents directly."
I didn't panic. Panic was an emotion I had completely eradicated from my psychological vocabulary the night I watched my four sons fight for their lives on ventilators while their father walked out the door. I authorized security to let the man up.
He handed me a thick, manila envelope, mumbled an apology, and quickly left. I broke the seal and slid the heavy stack of legal documents onto my mahogany desk.
It was a petition for emergency physical custody, joint legal custody, and a staggering demand for retroactive child support and alimony.
I read through the sworn affidavit, my blood turning to absolute ice. Nathan, completely bankrupt from his military discharge and desperate for a lifeline, had found a bottom-feeding attorney willing to take his case on contingency. The affidavit was a masterpiece of fabricated victimhood. Nathan claimed he suffered from severe, undiagnosed PTSD, that I had maliciously alienated him from his sons, and that my demanding career as a surgeon made me an unfit, neglectful mother. He was demanding fifty thousand dollars a month in support, citing my substantial wealth, so he could "provide a stable home for his estranged boys."
He didn't want his sons. He wanted my bank account.
I picked up my desk phone and dialed Olivia Vance, the most ruthless, bloodthirsty family law attorney on the East Coast. She answered on the first ring.
"I just received a fairy tale wrapped in a subpoena," I said, my voice dropping to a lethal, freezing register.
"I already have a copy, Claire," Olivia purred, the sound of her rapid typing echoing over the line. "He filed it in Suffolk County. He thinks because he’s a disgraced veteran, a bleeding-heart judge might grant him temporary access to your assets."
May you like
"I want him crushed, Olivia. I don't want a settlement. I don't want mediation. I want you to drag him into the blinding light and completely destroy his ability to ever say my sons' names again."
"Wear your best suit to the deposition, Claire," Olivia replied, a dark, predatory smile evident in her voice. "We are going to execute him."
