Right on cue, Brandon’s attorney’s phone rang again. The lawyer answered it, listened for three seconds, and let out a weak groan, sinking back into his leather chair.
“Brandon…” the attorney whispered, his face completely bloodless. “It’s the State Attorney General’s Office. They just froze all your corporate accounts. And the FBI is at your corporate headquarters with a grand jury subpoena.”
“What?!” Brandon lunged out of his chair. “On what grounds?!”
Natalie stood up, keeping one hand securely over Sophie’s back. “On the grounds of bank fraud, tax evasion, and grand larceny, Brandon. You see, when your mother threatened me to leave the house, I didn’t just cry. I went through the home office safe. I found the dual ledgers you used to hide your offshore accounts from both the IRS and your investors. I sent a complete copy to the federal authorities three days ago.”
Vanessa shrieked, instantly grabbing her designer purse and stepping away from Brandon as if he were covered in plague. “Federal authorities?! I have nothing to do with this! Brandon, you told me you were a billionaire! You used me!”
“Vanessa, wait—” Brandon reached for her, but she threw her iced coffee directly at his tailored suit and stormed out of the conference room, the heavy oak doors slamming behind her.
Brandon collapsed back into his seat, staring at the coffee stain spreading across his shirt, completely ruined. His empire, his reputation, and his freedom were vanishing in a matter of minutes.
Mr. Walker slid a fresh, single-page document across the table toward Brandon’s stunned attorney.
“This is an emergency petition for absolute custody, full ownership of the Oakridge property, and immediate liquidation of Mr. Hayes’ remaining personal assets to secure child support for Sophie,” Mr. Walker said flawlessly. “Sign it now, Brandon, and my client might consider asking the prosecutor for leniency regarding your hidden marital assets. Don’t sign it, and you’ll go to prison for the absolute maximum sentence.”
With his hands shaking so violently he could barely hold the pen, and his lawyer urgently nodding at him to comply, Brandon signed the paper. He pushed it back across the table, his eyes hollow, unable to even look at the daughter he had tried to leave homeless.
Natalie took the document, tucked it safely into her purse, and looked down at her ex-husband one last time.
“Thank you for the house, Brandon,” she said quietly. “Sophie is going to look beautiful growing up in it.”
Holding her twelve-day-old baby girl tight against her heart, Natalie walked out of the law firm and into the bright Phoenix sun, finally free, completely secure, and leaving the man who betrayed her to face the ruins of his own making.
