Chapter 3 - The Breakfast at DawnThe private dining room at the Peninsula Hotel was cold and quiet when Marcus Vance slid into the booth opposite me at 6:00 a.m. Marcus was a shark who only took cases involving nine-figure corporate dissolutions and catastrophic hostile takeovers, but when I slid the encrypted flash drive and a twenty-page preliminary forensic summary across the white tablecloth, his eyebrows climbed toward his hairline.
I sipped my black coffee, watching the morning fog roll over Michigan Avenue. “I don't just want a standard divorce settlement, Marcus,” I stated calmly, my voice steady and unyielding. “I want a complete corporate decapitation. I want the logistics firms, the real estate portfolios, and the security contracts transferred into an independent trust under my sole control before Mason even realizes the subpoena has been signed. He built his entire reputation on being untouchable. I want him to look out his office window and realize he doesn't even own the chair he’s sitting on.” Marcus stared at me for a long, calculating moment, recognizing the cold, unshakeable resolve of a woman scorned beyond repair. He pulled out his fountain pen, clicked it open, and slid the retainer agreement across the table. “Then let’s start dismantling an empire, Mrs. Bennett.”
