Chapter 3 - THE CONSULTATION
Victoria Vance’s office occupied the top floor of a sleek glass tower overlooking downtown Columbus. The reception area smelled of expensive leather, polished chrome, and quiet intimidation.
When I walked in wearing a tailored navy blazer and slim trousers—clothes I had bought during my brief accounting career, preserved in garment bags like armor—the receptionist didn't look at me like a desperate housewife. She looked at me like a client.
Ten minutes later, I was ushered into a corner office where Victoria Vance sat behind a massive glass desk. She was in her early fifties, with sharp silver-streaked hair, piercing gray eyes, and an aura of absolute command.
“Mrs. Bennett,” Victoria said, gesturing to the chair opposite her without standing up. “My associates reviewed your initial email and attachments before forwarding them to my desk. I must say, in twenty-five years of family law, few wives walk through my door armed with digital surveillance and an airtight recording of their husband hanging himself with his own words.”
I took a seat, placing my leather portfolio neatly on my knees. “Michael is arrogant, Ms. Vance. He assumes that because I haven't worked in a corporate office for twelve years, I am financially illiterate and completely dependent on his mercy.”
Victoria leaned forward, resting her chin on her interlaced fingers. “Let’s talk about reality. Michael Bennett’s construction supply company is valued conservatively at twelve million dollars, plus commercial real estate holdings, luxury vehicles, and our primary residence. Under Ohio law, you are entitled to a fifty-percent split of all marital assets accumulated over twelve years, plus substantial spousal and child support.”
“He tried to force me out with forty-eight hours' notice and a fraction of what we're owed,” I replied evenly.
“He tried to intimidate you,” Victoria corrected, a thin, predatory smile touching her lips. “Men like your husband build empires on ego and intimidation. They think a wedding ring is a leash. But ego makes men sloppy. Tell me about this secretary—Paige Henderson.”
“She’s twenty-four, joined his company eighteen months ago, and according to Michael, she is pregnant with his son,” I said.
Victoria raised an eyebrow. “A son. How poetic. Does Michael know about your pregnancy?”
I shook my head slowly. “No. And I want to keep it that way for as long as possible. If he finds out I’m carrying a boy, his legal strategy will shift. He’ll try to spin a narrative, buy off doctors, or claim I induced stress. I want him legally cornered and financially locked down before he discovers the truth.”
Victoria tapped a sleek silver pen against her blotter. “Smart. Very smart. If we file quietly, slap an emergency freeze on all corporate and personal accounts, and subpoena his financial records, he won’t know what hit him until the summons is served at his office.”
“Do it,” I said.
“One more thing, Rachel,” Victoria said, her gaze softening slightly, though her professional edge remained razor-sharp. “A bitter divorce with a newborn baby is going to require immense fortitude. Are you prepared for the firestorm? Once Michael realizes you aren't going quietly, he’s going to unleash hell.”
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I thought of Grace’s tear-stained face holding those tiny blue baby booties. I thought of Olivia whispering in her sleep, and little Sophie asking when she could go back to her own room.
“Let him try,” I said softly. “I spent twelve years building his life. Now, I'm going to build mine.”
