Chapter 7 - The Terms of Surrender
The front hallway grew deathly quiet. Richard Voss, the titan of corporate law, stood in the foyer of his son's suburban home looking like a man awaiting a death sentence. The flash drive sat in his palm like a detonator.
"Three things, Richard," I said, holding up a finger for each condition. "And you will agree to every single one of them before you walk out that door, or I plug this drive directly into my attorney’s server and broadcast it to every media outlet from Houston to New York."
Richard swallowed hard, his throat working convulsively. "Name them."
"First," I said steadily, "Mia gets full, unhindered custody of baby Noah. No joint custody stipulations that allow Caleb to use the child as leverage. No restrictions on where Mia chooses to live. If she wants to move back to Austin with me tomorrow, she does so without a single legal objection from your camp."
Richard nodded stiffly. "Done. Full custody to Mia. No restrictions."
"Second," I continued, raising a second finger. "The post-nuptial agreement Caleb forced her to sign is null, void, and shredded. Mia receives the house free and clear, unencumbered by mortgages or secondary liens, plus a lump-sum financial settlement from Caleb’s personal accounts to ensure her and Noah’s independence for the next ten years. No court battles, no drawn-out asset division."
Richard winced. That settlement would cost his son hundreds of thousands of dollars out of pocket. But compared to a federal securities fraud investigation and public exposure of domestic cruelty, it was a bargain.
"Agreed," Richard rasped, his voice tight. "The financial terms will be drawn up by my office and signed by Caleb before noon tomorrow."
"And third," I said, my voice dropping to a low, icy whisper, "Caleb leaves Texas. Permanently. He transfers to your firm's secondary branch in London, or he resigns from the practice entirely. I never want my daughter or my grandson to cross paths with that pathetic excuse for a man ever again."
Richard stared at me, a flicker of paternal defensiveness crossing his eyes. "Exile him? Eleanor, that’s—"
I didn't blink. I reached out and tapped the flash drive sitting in his palm.
Richard squeezed his eyes shut for a brief second, weighing his son’s career against the total annihilation of the Voss family name. When he opened them, all the fight was gone.
"He leaves for London by the end of the week," Richard said quietly. "He will resign his partnership position tomorrow morning. You have my word as an officer of the court."
"Your word, Richard, isn't worth the paper it's printed on," I replied smoothly, pulling a printed copy of the legal agreement Marcus Vance had faxed me ten minutes prior from behind my back. "Sign this binding stipulation right now, in front of me, using your own pen. My attorney is waiting for the countersignature via email."
Richard didn't hesitate anymore. He pulled his gold fountain pen from his breast pocket, flipped open the document on the hall table, and signed his name with sweeping, hurried strokes.
May you like
I picked up the paper, checked the signature, and smiled.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Richard," I said, stepping back and pulling the front door wide open. "Don't let the screen door hit you on the way out."
