Chapter 5 - The Reckoning at the DepositionThree weeks later, the conference rooms on the fourteenth floor of our downtown legal offices felt less like a negotiation space and more like a federal tribunal.
Victoria had successfully frozen every single asset Owen and Marissa attempted to hide. Furthermore, because Marissa was formally subpoenaed as a co-conspirator in the financial misappropriation of marital funds, she was legally required to appear for a formal corporate and marital deposition under oath.
When the double doors opened, Marissa walked in flanked by a nervous, low-tier defense attorney she had frantically hired using her own meager savings.
She looked a wreck. The polished, smug confidence she wore in her kitchen had completely vanished. Her hair was limp, her eyes were ringed with dark circles, and she avoided looking directly at me as she took a seat across the long mahogany table.
Owen sat at the opposite end of the room with his own lawyer, looking gaunt, defeated, and hollowed out by weeks of financial ruin and social ostracization. Even his own parents had refused to speak to him after learning he tried to steal my inheritance.
Victoria stood up, smoothing the front of her tailored black blazer, and looked directly at Marissa across the table.
“Miss Jenkins, let’s direct your attention to Exhibit C,” Victoria said smoothly, sliding a printed financial wire receipt toward her. “Can you explain to the court why seventy thousand dollars of marital funds belonging to Mr. Miller and Mrs. Miller were transferred into an entity bearing your initials on October 14th?”
Marissa swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she looked down at the paper. She glanced desperately toward Owen, but Owen kept his eyes glued to the table, too cowardly to even meet her gaze.
“It was... it was an investment,” Marissa stammered, her voice thin and reedy. “We were planning a... a business venture.”
“A business venture?” Victoria raised an eyebrow, stepping closer with predatory precision. “Interesting, considering the LLC was registered as ‘M&O Holdings’ two days after you and Mr. Miller spent a weekend together at an undisclosed hotel in Wisconsin. Isn't it true, Miss Jenkins, that you and the defendant were actively conspiring to liquidate marital assets in anticipation of a forced separation?”
“Objection, badgering,” Marissa’s lawyer chimed in weakly.
“Overruled,” the presiding mediator noted smoothly. “Answer the question, Miss Jenkins. Remember, you are under oath.”
Marissa’s lower lip quivered. The pressure—financial, social, and legal—finally broke her completely.
“Yes!” she sobbed suddenly, covering her face with her hands as tears spilled over her fingers. “Yes, okay?! He told me his wife was cold, that she didn't understand him, that they were getting divorced anyway! He promised he would leave her and take care of me! It was all his idea!”
Across the room, Owen’s head snapped up, his face contorting into absolute fury. “You lying bitch! You helped plan every single dollar of it!”
“Quiet in the room!” the mediator banged his gavel sharply.
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I sat quietly at the end of the table, watching the two people who had conspired to destroy my life tear each other apart in real time. There was no anger left in my chest. There was only profound, beautiful liberation.
The house of cards they had built on lies was collapsing into dust, and I had front-row tickets to the fall.
