Chapter 8 - The Downfall
The news of Scott’s arrest swept through our city like wildfire.
By Monday morning, the local business news had picked up the story: a senior executive arrested at his own promotional gala for multi-hundred-thousand-dollar embezzlement.
Scott was booked at the county jail. Because he had liquidated our joint accounts and frozen his assets trying to hide the money, he couldn't even afford his own bail. His wealthy parents, who had initially tried to blame me for "provoking" him, turned their backs on him once the state prosecutor revealed the overwhelming paper trail of fraud.
While Scott sat in a cell waiting for his trial, I went to work repairing the damage he had left behind.
With Mia’s legal expertise and the frozen assets recovered by the authorities, the court granted me immediate temporary control of our estate, the family home, and full custody of Leo, Mason, and Noah. Every single dollar Scott had transferred to Vanessa’s LLC was clawed back by the court-appointed receiver.
Three weeks after the gala, Scott’s criminal defense attorney requested an emergency visitation meeting at the county courthouse. He claimed Scott was "desperate to negotiate a settlement."
I walked into the visitor room wearing a crisp white blazer and dark jeans. I looked healthy, strong, and completely at peace.
Scott sat across the bulletproof glass, wearing an orange jumpsuit. His hair was messy, his face was gaunt, and the arrogant smirk he had worn for years was completely gone.
"Sarah," he rasped into the telephone handset, his hands trembling. "Please. You have to drop the civil suit. If you testify against me in the embezzlement trial, I’m looking at seven to ten years in federal prison."
"You did the crime, Scott," I said through the receiver, my voice steady and unyielding. "You do the time."
"I was stupid! I was stressed!" he pleaded, tears streaming down his face. "The triplets... the financial pressure... I lost my mind! But I still love you, Sarah. We can fix this! We can go to counseling!"
I looked at him, feeling no anger, no hatred—only a deep, liberating pity.
"You didn't lose your mind, Scott," I said calmly. "You revealed your character. You thought because my body was healing, I was powerless. You thought you could destroy my dignity and leave me with nothing."
"Please, Sarah..."
May you like
"My recovery is finished, Scott," I said, leaning closer to the glass. "And so is our marriage."
I hung up the telephone receiver, stood up, and walked out of the room without looking back once.
