Chapter 4 - The Courtroom Bloodbath
The divorce mediation and the criminal proceedings converged into a perfect storm of legal slaughter.
Carter hired a discount attorney who looked perpetually exhausted. We sat across from each other in a cold, sterile conference room at Elena’s firm. Carter looked like a ghost. The smug, arrogant frat boy was entirely gone, replaced by a hollowed-out, terrified man facing federal ruin.
“My client is asking for a fifty-fifty split of the marital assets and temporary spousal support, given his current... employment status,” Carter’s lawyer mumbled, staring down at his legal pad.
Elena laughed loudly. It was a sharp, biting sound. “Counselor, your client is facing felony domestic battery charges. In this state, any claim to spousal support is immediately invalidated by a domestic violence conviction. Furthermore, we have completed a forensic audit of the joint accounts.”
Elena slid a thick binder across the table. “Your client hasn't just been living off my client's income; he’s been embezzling it. For three years, Carter has been siphoning funds into an offshore account in his mother's name to avoid declaring it as marital assets. That is federal fraud.”
Carter’s face drained of color. He looked at his lawyer, who was furiously flipping through the pages of the binder, looking increasingly panicked.
“If you attempt to ask for a single dime of my client's money,” Elena continued, her voice lethal, “we will hand this audit directly to the IRS and the district attorney. You will sign this settlement today, waiving all rights to the house, the investments, and her business, or you can face federal prison time for fraud on top of your assault charges.”
Carter looked at me, his eyes begging for the mercy I used to give out so freely. For years, I would have caved. I would have felt guilty for his pain. But the freezing water of that alpine pool had shocked my system, washing away the compliant, terrified wife he had molded.
“Sign the papers, Carter,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “Or I will destroy whatever is left of your life.”
With a trembling hand, tears of pure defeat falling onto the legal document, he picked up the pen and signed. He surrendered everything.
Two months later, the criminal trial concluded. Mason and Brody took plea deals for probation and community service, testifying against Carter to save themselves. The judge, a no-nonsense woman who had watched the viral video with visible disgust, showed absolutely no mercy.
“Carter Vance,” the judge said sternly, looking down from the bench. “Your actions were not a prank. They were a calculated, humiliating, and physically dangerous assault on a woman you vowed to protect. Your complete lack of remorse, coupled with your attempt to leverage your family to intimidate the victim, is appalling.”
May you like
She sentenced him to twenty-four months in the state penitentiary, followed by three years of supervised probation.
When the bailiff stepped forward with the handcuffs, Carter didn't look at his mother, who was sobbing hysterically in the gallery. He looked at me. I didn't offer him a final moment of closure. I simply stood up, smoothed down my skirt, and walked out of the courtroom before the cuffs even clicked shut.
Related Stories
