Chapter 8 - The Financial Execution
Marcus scrambled quickly to his feet, trying desperately to smooth down his stained, ruined shirt.
"Clara, baby, we can go to counseling, we can fix this entirely," he pleaded, reaching out to grab my hand.
I violently slapped his hand away, glaring at him with a look of pure, concentrated disgust.
"There is absolutely nothing left to fix, Marcus," I said firmly, crossing my arms over my chest.
"While you two were busy having your romantic little breakdown inside my locked cellar, I made a few phone calls."
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a stack of folded documents I had printed earlier from my home office.
"This house is legally in both of our names, yes," I began, my voice steady and completely authoritative.
"But the entire mortgage, the property taxes, and the maintenance are paid exclusively from an LLC that I am the sole owner of."
Marcus blinked rapidly, his business-trained brain finally starting to comprehend the sheer gravity of the situation.
"I just officially suspended all payments from that LLC, and I locked the joint checking account holding your precious bonuses," I revealed smoothly.
"Furthermore, I completely canceled every single credit card that has your name attached to my primary accounts."
"You can't do that!" David yelled angrily, stepping forward to defend his personal ATM.
"That's illegal, she can't just cut you off from your own money, Marcus!"
"Oh, David, it's not his money, and it never was," I laughed coldly, looking directly into David’s panicked eyes.
"And speaking of money, I also just formally withdrew my initial seed funding for your pathetic tech startup."
David’s face drained of all color, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly like a dying fish.
I turned my sharp gaze back to a hyperventilating Marcus.
"I called my absolute shark of a lawyer thirty minutes ago, and she is already drafting the emergency divorce papers."
"Because of the iron-clad post-nuptial agreement you signed three years ago when you wanted me to pay off your massive gambling debts, you get absolutely nothing."
Marcus literally staggered backward, hitting the wall as if I had physically punched him in the chest.
"You wouldn't," Marcus whispered in sheer horror, realizing his entire luxurious life was vanishing before his eyes.
"I already did," I confirmed coldly, turning to look at his horrified corporate colleagues.
"Greg, Thomas, thank you so much for coming tonight," I said politely, offering them a genuine smile.
"I highly doubt Marcus will be in the mental state to attend that massive client meeting tomorrow."
"You might want to call your firm's partners and let them know he is completely compromised."
Greg nodded slowly, looking at Marcus with absolute professional disgust before turning and walking quickly up the stairs.
Thomas followed right behind him, eager to escape the radioactive fallout of my burning marriage.
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Marcus was entirely isolated, stripped of his money, his pride, and his professional standing in a matter of twenty minutes.
The financial execution was utterly flawless.
