Chapter 12
Chapter 12: The Architect of Ruin
By Tuesday, Richard’s legal team had descended upon the house like a pack of starving wolves.
They set up a temporary war room in the grand library. Emma watched from the doorway as five men in dark suits mapped out the systematic dismantling of her mother’s life. Victoria had signed a prenuptial agreement twenty years ago—a document she had laughingly dismissed as a "formality" at the time.
Now, it was her executioner.
"She gets nothing from the primary estate," the lead counsel, a shark-eyed man named Vance, stated flatly, tapping a pen against a thick stack of papers. "We freeze the joint accounts by noon. The cars are in the company's name. We'll have the keys to the Mercedes retrieved by a repo agent to avoid direct contact."
Richard stood by the fireplace, staring into the unlit hearth. "What about the vacation home in Aspen?"
"Purchased post-marriage, but with funds traced directly to your inheritance, Richard. It's yours."
"Sell it," Richard commanded, not turning around. "I don't want anything she’s slept in."
Emma stepped into the room. The lawyers fell silent, unsure of how to act around the daughter who had struck the match.
"Cancel her country club membership, too," Emma said, her voice chillingly calm. "If she wants to play tennis with her friends, she can pay the guest fee."
May you like
Richard turned to look at his daughter. A faint, grim smile touched his lips.
The empire was striking back.
