Chapter 3 - The Smear Campaign
Arthur Montgomery wasn't bluffing. Within a week, the narrative in the media began to shift.
Anonymous sources leaked doctored audio clips to tabloid websites—clips of me shouting during a past argument with Mark, edited to make me sound hysterical and violent. Articles appeared questioning my mental stability, hinting that I had a history of self-harm and depression. Mark’s defense attorney, a ruthless celebrity lawyer named Caleb Vance, did a televised interview implying that I was exploiting a "minor domestic dispute" to secure a massive divorce settlement.
Every time I opened my phone, I saw comments from strangers calling me a liar, a gold-digger, a woman trying to ruin a successful man’s career.
One afternoon, I received a text from an unknown number. It was a video file.
I clicked play with shaking fingers. The video showed my sweet cat, Barnaby—the one Mark had threatened—sitting in a cage. A shadow loomed over the cage, and Mark’s voice, recorded from jail, whispered through the speaker: “Nothing stays safe forever, Emily. Drop the charges, or everything you love disappears.”
I dropped the phone, my heart racing, panic clawing at my throat. The room felt like it was spinning. The old fear—the paralyzing, suffocating terror that had kept me trapped for years—came rushing back like a tidal wave.
"Emily."
My father walked into the room, his face calm and steady. He picked up the phone, watched the video, and his eyes flashed with a cold, brilliant fury.
"Is this from today?" he asked.
"Yes," I sobbed, burying my face in my hands. "Dad, they’re going to win. They have too much power. They know where everything is. They’re going to hurt Barnaby, they’re going to destroy my reputation, I can't do this—"
Robert sat down beside me, placing a heavy, comforting hand on my shoulder. "They are doing this because they are losing, Emily. An animal only bites this wildly when it’s backed into a corner. Mark thinks he’s playing a game of intimidation. He doesn't realize he just handed us the final nail for his coffin."
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He stood up and dialed a number on his own phone. "David? It’s Robert. We have an active case of felony witness tampering and extortion transmitted from the county jail. Track the burner phone that sent the file, and get a warrant for the Montgomery estate's private kennel. We’re moving the trial date up."
My father looked down at me, his eyes filled with an unbreakable pride. "Tomorrow, we stop playing defense. Tomorrow, we show them what happens when you threaten a Hayes."
