Chapter 6 - The Shark in the Glass Tower
Marcus Sterling’s office was on the forty-fifth floor of a sleek glass tower in the financial district,
a place where the air itself felt incredibly expensive,
and the silence was thick with power.
The receptionist guided me through a set of heavy mahogany doors,
and I stepped into a room that was larger than my entire apartment.
Marcus was sitting behind a massive desk carved from dark walnut,
surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of the bustling city below.
He did not look like a typical lawyer.
He did not wear a stiff,
uncomfortable suit.
Instead,
he wore a tailored navy blazer over a crisp,
open-collared white shirt,
looking more like a ruthless venture capitalist than a divorce attorney.
He stood up as I entered the room,
his sharp gray eyes analyzing me in a fraction of a second.
"Mrs. Davis,"
he said,
his voice remarkably calm,
yet carrying an undeniable weight of authority.
"Richard Vance speaks very highly of you,
which means you are smart,
capable,
and currently dealing with a disaster you did not deserve."
I walked over to the leather chair opposite his desk,
my heels sinking into the plush carpet,
and I sat down.
"I am dealing with a disaster, Mr. Sterling,"
I replied,
keeping my voice completely steady,
"but I do not plan on being a victim."
He smiled,
a cold,
calculated smile that made me glad he was on my side.
"Call me Marcus,"
he instructed,
leaning forward and folding his hands on the desk.
"Tell me exactly what your husband did,
and do not leave out a single,
solitary detail."
I unzipped the large tote bag I had brought with me,
the heavy canvas scraping against the polished wood of his desk,
and I pulled out the three thick manila folders.
I placed them squarely in the center of the table.
"My husband has been having an affair with my best friend of twelve years,"
I began,
my voice devoid of any emotion,
sounding almost clinical.
"Last night,
I caught them in my apartment,
and I threw them out."
Marcus nodded slowly,
his expression completely unchanged,
as if infidelity was the most boring topic in the world.
"That is the emotional betrayal,"
he stated quietly.
"Now,
show me the financial betrayal."
I pushed the first folder toward him,
the one containing the bank statements and the wire transfer receipts.
"Four days ago,"
I explained,
watching his eyes dart across the documents,
"Calvin transferred two hundred thousand dollars from our joint savings account.
It was my grandfather’s inheritance,
money I had kept there for a house down payment,
and he wired it to a corporate account under the name CS Holdings LLC."
Marcus picked up the paper,
his eyes narrowing slightly as he read the routing numbers and the transfer confirmation.
"CS Holdings,"
he murmured thoughtfully.
"Calvin and Stephanie."
"Exactly,"
I confirmed,
pushing the second folder across the desk.
"This is the business plan for a boutique hotel investment they have been developing for over a year.
He used my money as the initial capital,
and according to these emails I printed from his encrypted account,
they are closing on a commercial property on 5th Avenue this week."
Marcus opened the second folder,
scanning the highly detailed financial projections,
the architectural mock-ups,
and the emails coordinating the real estate transaction.
For a long moment,
the only sound in the enormous office was the soft rustling of paper.
"He also maxed out two credit cards in my name,"
I continued,
delivering the final blow,
"racking up thirty thousand dollars in debt for luxury furniture and consultations for this hotel project."
Marcus finally looked up from the documents,
and for the first time,
I saw a flicker of genuine predatory excitement in his eyes.
"Your husband is a very foolish man, Brooke,"
Marcus said,
leaning back in his chair and tapping a silver pen against his chin.
"He thinks he has successfully insulated this money by placing it in an LLC,
likely operating under the assumption that family court will take months to untangle the corporate veil."
"Can you untangle it?"
I asked,
my heart beating a little faster in my chest.
"I don't just want to untangle it,"
Marcus replied,
his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper,
"I want to tear it to shreds.
Because he used marital funds,
and specifically an inheritance which can sometimes be considered separate property depending on how it was mingled,
to secretly fund a business venture with a paramour,
this isn't just a standard divorce asset division.
This is breach of fiduciary duty,
marital waste,
and borderline fraud."
I felt a rush of adrenaline surge through my veins,
a warm,
empowering sensation that completely chased away the exhaustion of a sleepless night.
"What is our first move?"
I asked eagerly.
"We file for an emergency ex parte injunction,"
Marcus declared,
writing rapidly on a legal pad.
"I know the judge on duty this week,
and she absolutely despises men who hide assets in corporate shells to screw over their wives.
We are going to freeze CS Holdings LLC immediately,
stopping that commercial real estate closing dead in its tracks."
"Will they know?"
I asked,
thinking of Calvin’s arrogant face.
"Not until the bank rejects their wire for the property closing,"
Marcus smiled,
"which should happen exactly when they are sitting at the closing table,
surrounded by brokers and attorneys,
May you like
expecting to sign the final deeds."
It was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.
