Chapter 4 - The Legal Fortress
Before launching a financial investigation into my own bloodline, I knew I needed to build an impenetrable legal wall around myself and Alex. My parents were wealthy, connected, and utterly ruthless when cornered; the moment they realized I wasn't going to quietly accept my role as the family scapegoat, they would attempt to use every legal and familial pressure point available to crush me.
At one o'clock that afternoon, we walked into the executive offices of Vance & Sterling, the premier civil litigation and criminal defense firm in the city. We weren't meeting with a junior associate; we were meeting with Marcus Sterling, a former federal prosecutor who had built his career taking down organized crime rings and corrupt political dynasties. Marcus was a tall, silver-haired strategist with razor-sharp eyes who listened without interruption as we laid the physical evidence on his conference table.
We presented the color photographs of my sutured face, the medical examiner’s preliminary report documenting blunt force trauma, the chain-of-custody receipts for the bloodied garments, and finally, the high-definition patio video. When the footage reached the moment of my mother saying, “Let’s see if he still wants to show you off now,” Marcus actually leaned forward, his brow furrowing with professional intensity.
“In my thirty years of practice, I have rarely seen a more gratuitous, malicious display of domestic violence,” Marcus said, closing his notebook with a definitive snap. “Your father didn't just throw a glass; the trajectory, force, and weight of that crystal decanter constitute assault with a deadly weapon and intent to cause grievous bodily harm. In this state, that carries a mandatory minimum sentence of five to fifteen years.”
“I want an emergency ex-parte protective order filed immediately,” I told Marcus, leaning forward with my hands flat on the table. “I want my father, my mother, and my sister legally barred from approaching within one thousand feet of my home, my workplace, or Alex’s firm. If they attempt to contact me by phone, email, or through third-party intermediaries, I want them held in immediate contempt of court.”
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“Consider it done,” Marcus replied, scribbling a rapid note on his legal pad. “I will have a judge sign the temporary restraining order before the courthouse closes at five today. But Victoria... you mentioned on the phone that you wanted to delay serving the criminal arrest warrant for forty-eight hours. Why?”
A cold, analytical smile touched my lips—the first smile since the decanter shattered against my skin. “Because my father runs Vance Enterprises with zero external oversight, and my mother hasn't worked a day in her life, yet they just bought Chloe a two-million-dollar condo in cash. I’m a senior forensic auditor, Marcus. I want forty-eight hours to pull the tax filings and probate records on my maternal grandfather’s estate before my father realizes his bank accounts are about to be subpoenaed.”
