Chapter 4 - Gathering the Artillery
While Marcus was admiring himself in the mirror, my father’s empire was already at war.
I spent the next three days floating in and out of a medicated haze. Every time I opened my eyes, Thomas Sterling was there. He had turned the adjoining hospital suite into a war room. I watched through the open door as his team of corporate lawyers, private investigators, and fixers moved like an army of tailored ants.
"I want everything," I heard my father bark into his phone. "I want his bank records. I want his text messages. I want the lease agreement on his car, his condo, and his credit card statements. Dig into his firm, Vanguard Legal. Find out who their biggest clients are."
On the fourth day, the IV drain was removed, and I could sit up comfortably. My father walked in, holding a thick, black leather binder.
"How are you feeling, Clara?" he asked, taking his usual seat.
"Stronger," I said, and it was true. The infection was gone, replaced by a cold, sharp clarity. I was done crying. I was done being the submissive wife who shrank herself to fit into Marcus's fragile ego.
"Good," my father said, opening the binder. "Because Marcus Vance is a very busy man. According to my investigators, he hasn't filed a missing persons report. He has been spending every night with a twenty-four-year-old marketing associate named Elena. Furthermore, he's drowning in debt. The Audi, the Rolex, the condo—all heavily leveraged. He’s counting on a senior partnership at Vanguard to keep him from declaring bankruptcy."
I looked at the photos of Marcus and Elena laughing at a bar, taken just hours after he left me in the mud. A profound disgust washed over me, burning away the last lingering threads of love I held for him.
"Vanguard Legal is a mid-tier corporate firm," my father continued, a lethal smile touching the corners of his mouth. "They have been trying to secure a retainer with Sterling Global for three years. I have my chief operating officer calling their managing partner in exactly ten minutes to tell them we are finally ready to sign an exclusive contract."
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I looked at my father, understanding dawning on me. "You're hiring them?"
"I am bringing them to the table," my father corrected softly. "I told them I want their best rising star to lead the pitch. I specifically requested Marcus Vance."
