Chapter 8 - The Legal Trap and the Financial Audit
That afternoon,
I didn't go home to rest.
I went to my bank.
If Andrew and Gemma wanted to play a game of assets,
I was going to play for keeps.
I sat across from my financial advisor,
Mr. Henderson.
"I need a full audit of my accounts,"
I said,
my voice steady.
"Every penny that has been moved in the last six months."
Mr. Henderson looked nervous.
"Dr. Miller,"
"is there a problem?"
"I'm getting an annulment,"
I said,
though we weren't legally married,
"and I'm suspecting financial fraud."
He began typing on his computer,
the clicking of the keys sounding like a countdown.
"Well,"
"there were several large withdrawals from your joint savings account with Mr. Foster."
"Joint?"
I asked,
frowning.
"I never authorized a joint account."
Mr. Henderson paused,
turning the monitor toward me.
"You signed the papers three months ago, Dr. Miller."
"On the day of your engagement party."
I looked at the signature.
It was mine,
but it was jagged,
as if I had been in a rush.
Then I remembered.
Andrew had brought me a stack of 'wedding venue contracts' while I was post-call,
exhausted and barely able to keep my eyes open.
"Sign here, babe,"
he had said,
kissing my forehead.
"It's just for the catering."
I had trusted him.
I had signed my financial life away while I was half-asleep.
"How much is gone?"
I asked,
my heart pounding.
"Eighty thousand dollars,"
Mr. Henderson said quietly.
"Most of it was moved to an account in the name of 'Brenda Foster'."
I felt a surge of pure,
white-hot rage.
They hadn't just cheated on me.
They had systematically robbed me.
The wedding,
the dress,
the flowers—it was all a front.
They were draining me dry before they discarded me.
"Can we freeze the accounts?"
"I've already done it,"
he said.
"But the money that's already moved... that will require a legal battle."
"Then let's start one,"
I said.
I left the bank and headed to a law office Zachary had recommended.
The firm was located in the tallest building in the city.
The receptionist didn't even ask for my name.
"Dr. Miller,"
she said,
smiling.
"Mr. Howard said you would be coming."
"Mr. Sterling is waiting for you in the conference room."
Marcus Sterling was a man who looked like he had never lost a case in his life.
He had folders spread out across a mahogany table.
"Dr. Miller,"
he said,
shaking my hand.
"We have a lot to talk about."
"Mr. Howard has informed me of the situation."
"But he didn't mention the fraud."
I explained the signatures,
the withdrawals,
and the 'joint account'.
Sterling’s eyes lit up.
"This isn't just a breakup, Samantha."
"This is a felony."
"Embezzlement, fraud, and identity theft."
"We can tie them up in court for the next ten years."
"But more importantly,"
"we can file for an emergency injunction to seize their assets."
"Including the cars they're driving,"
"and the jewelry they bought with your money."
I thought about the ring Gemma was wearing.
My ring.
"I want the ring back,"
I said.
"Not because I want it,"
"but because it's mine."
"Consider it done,"
Sterling said.
"And there's more."
"We looked into Gemma Salas."
"She told the Fosters she was inheriting a fortune from her grandfather."
"But the grandfather’s estate is tied up in litigation because he died with massive tax liens."
"She’s broke, Samantha."
"She was using Andrew to get to your money."
"And Andrew was using her to get to what he thought was her money."
I sat back in the plush chair,
shaking my head.
They were two vultures trying to eat a carcass that was still alive.
"They deserve each other,"
I whispered.
"They do,"
Sterling agreed.
"But they don't deserve your money."
"Tomorrow,"
"we file the papers."
"And by the way,"
"Mr. Howard wanted me to give you this."
He handed me a small,
elegant invitation.
It was for the 'St. Luke’s Annual Charity Gala'.
The biggest social event of the year.
"He says you should wear something that isn't white,"
Sterling added with a wink.
I looked at the card.
The gala was in three days.
Andrew and Brenda had been obsessed with getting an invitation for years,
but they were never 'high-profile' enough.
"Will they be there?"
I asked.
"Oh,"
Sterling smiled,
May you like
"I'm making sure they get a special invitation."
"One they won't be able to refuse."
