“That house was never yours,” Brandon repeated, his voice sharpening as he tried to regain his footing. “My company built it before we even walked down the aisle. It’s a corporate asset, Natalie. You and the baby have no legal right to it.”
Vanessa nodded eagerly beside him, trying to salvage her own dignity. “Exactly. Brandon promised me that house anyway. You’re just trying to extortionate him.”
Natalie didn’t flinch at the word “extortionate.” Instead, she adjusted Sophie against her chest, looked directly at Brandon’s trembling attorney, and then reached back into her purse. She pulled out a second, smaller white envelope and slid it across the table to Mr. Walker.
“I knew you’d say that, Brandon,” Natalie said, her voice terrifyingly calm. “Which is why I didn’t just bring the property deed. I brought the forensic audit of your development firm’s primary bank account.”
Brandon’s attorney scrambled to grab the papers before Mr. Walker could look, but Natalie’s lawyer was faster. As Mr. Walker scanned the top sheet, a slow, triumphant smile spread across his face.
“What is that?” Brandon demanded, his corporate composure fracturing entirely.
“This,” Mr. Walker announced, holding up a certified bank wire receipt, “is proof that the Oakridge property was heavily remodeled and paid off using two million dollars from a joint marital savings account just six months ago. Furthermore, these documents show that your mother’s LLC, which you used to ‘transfer’ the property yesterday, was funded entirely by marital assets you hid during disclosure.”
“That’s illegal,” Vanessa whispered, her eyes widening as she looked at Brandon. “Brandon, you told me everything you owned was clean!”
“Shut up, Vanessa!” Brandon snapped, slamming his hands on the table. He turned his venomous gaze to Natalie. “You think you’re smart? My lawyers will tie this up in court for the next ten years. By the time a judge orders a sale, you’ll be broke from legal fees and living in a shelter with that kid. Sign the damn papers, Natalie, or I will ruin you.”
“I don’t think so,” Natalie replied softly. She tapped her phone screen, which had been sitting face-up on the table the entire time. “Because this meeting wasn’t just a divorce negotiation. It was a trap.”
