Chapter 3 - Severing the LifelineTwo days later, the financial slaughter began.
Preston had always prided himself on being a self-made titan of industry, but his entire wealth management firm was built on a house of cards. His biggest, most lucrative clients were legacy families who only associated with him because they believed he was a man of integrity and strong family values.
When the news of his arrest broke—accompanied by the horrific details of his plot to poison his pregnant wife and his mistress's physical assault—the fallout was instantaneous and merciless.
I was cleared to leave the hospital under the strict condition that I move directly into Uncle Richard’s sprawling, high-security estate in River Oaks. I sat in the sunroom, wrapped in a cashmere blanket, watching the financial news networks cover the collapse of Hartwell Financial.
"Shares are plummeting as three major institutional investors pulled their capital this morning," the anchor announced, a graphic of Preston’s face flashing on the screen. "The board of directors convened an emergency meeting at dawn, officially voting to terminate Preston Hartwell as CEO, citing gross moral turpitude and criminal misconduct."
Preston’s lawyer, a sleazy defense attorney named Vance, attempted to arrange a mediation session via a secure video link from the county jail. He thought he could bully me into dropping the charges in exchange for a favorable divorce settlement. He vastly underestimated the firepower I now possessed.
I sat at the massive mahogany dining table alongside my uncle and a team of four elite lawyers. When Preston’s face appeared on the monitor, he looked entirely broken. His hair was greasy, his face pale, and the smugness that usually defined him was completely eradicated.
"Emily, please," Preston begged, his voice cracking. "I lost the firm. They froze my bank accounts. Savannah is testifying against me, saying the pills were my idea. Please, tell Richard to call off his attack dogs. I’ll give you the house. I’ll give you everything. Just drop the attempted murder charges."
"You don't have a house to give, Preston," my lead attorney stated coldly, sliding a document toward the camera. "As of 9:00 a.m. today, the bank foreclosed on the property due to fraudulent mortgage applications you submitted using marital funds. Furthermore, my client is not dropping the charges. In fact, we are adding federal wire fraud charges to the docket, as you used company emails to purchase the illegal narcotics from an overseas supplier."
Preston gasped, burying his face in his hands. "You're ruining my life!" he sobbed.
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"You ruined your own life the moment you put your hands on my niece," Richard said, his voice echoing with lethal finality. "Enjoy your cage, Preston. It is the only real estate you will ever own again."
The video call was terminated. I closed my laptop, exhaling a long, shaky breath. The man who had terrorized me, belittled me, and tried to harm my child was utterly decimated. He had absolutely nothing left.
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