Chapter 23 - The Ghost in the Courtroom
I stared at the glowing monitor, reading the plaintiff's name three times just to ensure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. *Alyssa Vance-Miller.* She had even kept the hyphenated surname attempt, hoping the lingering association would carry some legal weight.
According to the digital docket pulled straight from the county municipal database, Alyssa had filed an emergency injunction against me, claiming that my "malicious digital abandonment" had caused her severe emotional distress and financial ruin following the sudden cancellation of their wedding and the subsequent unraveling of the fraudulent loan scheme. She was suing for $250,000 in damages, citing shared liability under a fabricated common-law partnership clause.
A cold, dark chuckle escaped my lips. Common-law partnership? We had broken up years ago, and she had spent the entire evening of the engagement party laughing while my mother bragged about using my identity to secure a $17,000 loan without my consent. Now that the financial fallout had destroyed their credit scores and landed Mason in hot water with local investigators, they were desperately throwing a legal Hail Mary, hoping I would settle out of court just to make the headache go away.
They still didn't understand who they were dealing with.
I picked up my phone and dialed a direct extension. It rang twice before a crisp, professional voice answered. "Vance Legal Holdings, this is Sarah speaking."
"Sarah," I said, leaning back in my leather chair. "I hope I'm not interrupting your evening."
"Ethan? Never," Sarah’s tone instantly shifted, a warm, professional cadence replacing her standard receptionist chill. "Though if you're calling this late, I assume you didn't just dial in to talk about the weather. What's on your screen?"
"An amateur attempt at extortion disguised as a civil motion," I replied smoothly, tapping a key to export the PDF of Alyssa’s court filing directly to her secure terminal. "Check your encrypted inbox. Alyssa just filed an emergency injunction in my old hometown district, claiming common-law damages and demanding a quarter of a million dollars."
There was a brief pause on the line as Sarah opened the document. I could hear the faint rustle of digital files being pulled up on her end, followed by a sharp, incredulous intake of breath.
"Unbelievable," Sarah muttered, her voice dropping into a dangerous register. "Common-law partnership? In that state, the threshold requires explicit cohabitation and joint financial pooling for a minimum of five years—none of which exists. Furthermore, your credit lock and the financial affidavits we filed months ago explicitly established your non-involvement in their household. This isn't just a weak lawsuit, Ethan. This is a frivolous, bad-faith filing meant to harass."
"Which means," I added, "we have grounds for an immediate counter-motion for sanctions, legal fees, and a permanent restraining order against both her and anyone acting on her behalf."
May you like
"Consider it done," Sarah said, her competitive instincts clearly kicking into high gear. "I'll draft the emergency dismissal motion tonight and have our local counsel file it before the courthouse doors open tomorrow morning. We’ll crush this before it even reaches a judge's desk."
"Make sure you include the forensic audit reports from the original loan fraud," I instructed, my eyes fixed on the city lights outside. "Let's remind them exactly what happens when they try to play in my code."
