Chapter 3: The Threat and the Counter
The next morning, the sun rose over the Denver skyline, casting a golden hue through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my condo. I hadn't slept a wink. My phone had been ringing off the hook since 6:00 AM.
There were seventeen missed calls from Victoria, twelve from Arthur, and five from unknown numbers that I knew belonged to Marcus Vance’s legal aides. I ignored every single one of them. Instead, I waited for the one call that mattered.
At 8:30 AM, Clara called.
"The emergency restraining order has been signed by a judge," Clara announced triumphantly. "Diego was released on bail two hours ago, and he was served the moment his feet touched the pavement outside the jail. He cannot come within 500 feet of you, your condo, or your architectural firm. Furthermore, I’ve officially filed the divorce petition. It's public record now, Valerie. The press is going to catch wind of this by noon."
"Good. Let them," I said, sipping my black coffee. "Clara, I found something last night. Diego forged my signature to use my condo as collateral for a three-million-dollar loan for his startup."
A heavy silence fell over the line. "Are you absolutely certain?"
"I have the PDF files with the forged signatures and the notary seal from a notary who happens to be a close friend of Arthur’s. The loan is with Vanguard Heritage Bank."
"Oh, this is delicious," Clara purred. "This changes the game from a nasty divorce to a federal criminal investigation. Don't share those files with anyone yet. Let them make their first move. They think they hold all the cards because of their social standing. Let them play their hand blindly."
Ten minutes after I hung up with Clara, my phone rang again. This time, it was Diego's personal number. He was violating the restraining order already. I smiled, set the phone to record on my laptop, and answered.
"Valerie, you miserable, vindictive parasite!" Diego roared into the phone. His voice was raw, frantic, and laced with a toxic mix of fear and anger. "What the hell did you do? I just got served with a restraining order! You filed for divorce? Have you lost your mind?"
"Good morning, Diego," I said calmly, keeping my voice level and measured. "I see you're violating a judge's order within two hours of being released. Should I call Officer Davis back?"
"Shut up! You think you’re smart? You think some hotshot lawyer is going to save you? My father is currently meeting with the managing partners of your architecture firm. By the end of the day, you’re going to be fired, Valerie. We are going to blackball you from every design firm in the western hemisphere. You'll be begging my mother to take that apartment just so you can afford food."
"Is that all, Diego?" I asked, completely unfazed by his threats.
"No, it's not all!" he screamed. "You are going to drop these charges, you are going to sign the affidavit saying the plate was an accident, and you are going to cooperate, or I swear to God, I will make your life a living hell. You have until noon to fix this."
"Diego," I said softly, ensuring the recorder captured every word. "Do you remember what I told you last night before I called the police?"
"What?" he spat.
"I told you that you have absolutely no idea what I'm capable of. You think your father can destroy my career? My career is built on my talent, not my last name. And as for your little startup, Apex Tech Solutions... you might want to check your bank accounts. Because a motion to freeze all assets tied to our marital estate was approved thirty minutes ago."
The line went dead silent. I could hear his ragged breathing over the receiver.
"What did you do?" he whispered, the bravado completely vanishing.
"I know about the Vanguard Heritage loan, Diego. I know about the forged signature on my condo deed. And I know about the notary, Harrison Vance, who helped you do it."
A sharp gasp came from his end, followed by the sound of someone snatching the phone away from him. A cold, older voice took over the line. It was Arthur.
"Valerie," Arthur said, his tone no longer angry, but deadly serious. "Let us speak as adults. You have stumbled into things that do not concern you. Name your price. How much money do you want to walk away from this marriage quietly and hand over the drive with those documents?"
"Arthur," I replied, leaning back in my chair, looking out at the city I helped build. "There isn't enough money in the Sterling trust to buy your son out of what he did. You sat at that table and watched him bleed me. You tried to bribe a police officer. You tried to steal my property. You wanted a war? You have one. Tell your son to pack a toothbrush. He's going to need it for where he's going."
I hung up the phone before he could reply.
Within an hour, my firm’s managing partner, Marcus Elliott, called me. His voice was filled with anxiety. "Valerie... Arthur Sterling was just in my office. He threatened to pull the multi-million-dollar riverfront development contract if we don't terminate your employment immediately. He claims you're involved in a highly unstable domestic dispute that threatens the firm's reputation."
My heart hammered against my ribs, but I forced myself to remain calm. "Marcus, did he tell you that his son was arrested for felony domestic violence against me last night? Did he tell you that I have six stitches in my head right now because of them?"
Marcus sighed heavily. "Valerie, I know you're the victim here, and I hate this. But the board is terrified. The riverfront project keeps our doors open. We might have to suspend you indefinitely."
"Don't do that, Marcus," I said smoothly. "Because if you suspend me to appease a client who is trying to cover up a felony, I will not only sue the Sterling family—I will sue this firm for unlawful retaliation under the Whistleblower Protection Act. Furthermore, I am the lead architect on the riverfront project. The city permits are approved under my personal architectural seal. If I leave, those permits are legally void, and the project stalls for eighteen months."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Marcus hadn't realized I had insulated myself so perfectly.
"I'll call the board back," Marcus said quietly. "Take a few days of paid medical leave, Valerie. We won't touch your position."
May you like
"Thank you, Marcus. I'll see you on Monday."
I closed my laptop. The first wave of their attack had been neutralized. Now, it was my turn to go on the offensive.
