Chapter 4 - The Counter-Attack
Victoria Hale was not a woman who went down quietly. Born into old Seattle money and raised in country clubs where image was currency, she viewed her humiliation not as the consequence of her own monstrous actions, but as a temporary public relations crisis that could be managed with enough leverage.
Two days after the aborted wedding, Victoria’s high-priced defense attorney, Jonathan Vance (no relation to Marcus), filed an emergency injunction in King County Superior Court. The motion attempted to freeze Ethan Pierce’s corporate assets under the pretext of "marital dissolution proceedings," arguing that even though the wedding ceremony was interrupted, Victoria had a legal and financial claim to shared enterprise funds due to their long-term cohabitation and pre-nuptial arrangements.
It was a bold, desperate legal maneuver designed to starve Ethan of his liquidity and force him to the negotiating table.
Ethan was sitting in his corporate office overlooking Elliott Bay when Marcus walked in, tossing a heavy stack of legal paperwork onto the glass desk with a disgusted grimace.
"She’s fighting dirty," Marcus warned. "Her legal team is trying to tie up your holdings by claiming you entered into a common-law partnership equivalent and that Olivia and the child are opportunistic imposters backed by a disgruntled former business partner."
Ethan didn't look up from a medical report he was reading regarding Olivia's ongoing recovery. "Let them try. What does the forensic audit say about Victoria's personal accounts?"
"That's the fun part," Marcus smirked, leaning against the edge of the desk. "We traced the monthly checks she sent Olivia over the last nine years. Turns out, Victoria didn't just use her personal savings. She embezzled funds from the Hale Family Charitable Foundation—a tax-exempt entity run by her uncle—to fund the hush money."
Ethan slowly raised his head, a cold, sharp light glinting in his eyes. "Tax fraud and charity embezzlement? On top of extortion and perjury?"
"Federal offenses, Ethan," Marcus nodded. "The U.S. Attorney’s office took our package this morning. Victoria thought she was playing high-society poker, but she just walked straight into a federal penitentiary."
Before Ethan could reply, his office door swung open without a knock.
It wasn't Marcus's assistant. It was Victoria herself.
She had clearly pulled out all the stops. Dressed in an immaculate Chanel houndstooth pantsuit, her blonde hair pinned into a chillingly perfect chignon, she looked like she had just stepped off the pages of Vogue. But her eyes—red-rimmed underneath careful layers of concealer—betrayed the manic desperation clawing at her insides.
"Get out, Marcus," Victoria commanded, her voice dropping into its icy, aristocratic register.
Marcus didn't move an inch. He looked at Ethan for confirmation. Ethan gave a slight nod, and the attorney gathered his files, walking past Victoria with a look of absolute contempt before pulling the heavy oak doors shut behind him.
The office fell into a suffocating silence.
"You're making a catastrophic mistake, Ethan," Victoria began, taking slow, deliberate steps toward his desk. Her voice shook slightly despite her best efforts. "Do you really think a raggedy stray from a trailer park and some random kid are worth destroying everything we built? We had an empire together. Our social standing, our boards, our future—gone because of a melodramatic soap opera stunt?"
Ethan stood up from his leather executive chair. He didn't yell. He didn't slam his hands on the desk. He simply walked around it, stopping just a few feet away from her.
"You called them a stray and a random kid," Ethan said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "That little girl is my flesh and blood. And Olivia is the only woman I ever truly loved—a woman you systematically tortured, isolated, and starved for a decade just so you could slip into my bed."
Victoria’s chin quivered, but she scoffed, lifting her head high. "Prove it. Prove any of it in a court of law before the tabloids chew you both alive. People love a scandal, Ethan, but they love a fallen billionaire even more. Your company stock dropped four points this morning alone."
"Let it drop to zero," Ethan replied quietly. "Because tomorrow morning, federal agents are going to arrest you for charity embezzlement, wire fraud, and extortion. Your uncle’s foundation is going under, your social circle is going to pretend you never existed, and you are going to spend the next ten years wondering why you thought someone else's life was yours to steal."
Victoria’s flawless facade finally cracked. The color drained entirely from her face, leaving her looking hollow and grotesque. She lunged forward, her manicured fingers clawing at the lapels of his suit. "You wouldn't! Ethan, I loved you! I gave you my best years!"
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Ethan reached down, gently but firmly unpeeling her fingers from his jacket, and stepped back as if touching something unclean.
"No, Victoria," Ethan said, turning his back on her to look out at the grey, rainy harbor. "You loved the idea of being Mrs. Pierce. Now, get out of my office before I have security throw you out the window."
