Chapter 5 - The Financial Dissection
By Monday morning, the fallout had transcended local society gossip and exploded across financial news networks and social media platforms.
The viral video captured by wedding guests—showing the bride screaming accusations, the dress being torn, my father crushing the fake ring, and the police leading Eleanor and Amanda away in handcuffs—was trending at number one nationwide. Media outlets dubbed it "The Billionaire Bride’s Revenge."
I sat in the executive corner office on the sixtieth floor of Sterling Tower, overlooking the sprawling panorama of downtown Seattle. The morning sun washed over the polished walnut desk where thick folders detailing the complete financial dismantling of Dominic Albright and his family lay open.
My father stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, sipping a cup of black coffee.
"The forensic audit of Dominic's corporate accounts at Vanguard Financial is complete," my father reported calmly. "As suspected, he wasn't just living beyond his means; he was embezzling minor client accounts to fund his expensive lifestyle and pay off gambling debts he accumulated before we met."
I didn't look up from my tablet, where I was reviewing the preliminary annulment terms. "Did you forward the audit to federal prosecutors?"
"Sent it over an hour ago," my father smiled faintly. "Combined with the civil fraud charges we filed this morning, Dominic is looking at a minimum of eight to ten years in a federal penitentiary. His law firm terminated him before the stock market even opened today."
Just then, the frosted glass door of my office swung open. Parker, my cousin and senior litigation partner at Davis Hardy—the firm handling our family trust—walked in carrying a fresh stack of deposition transcripts.
"Morning, Vivienne," Parker greeted me with a grin, tossing a red-flagged file onto my desk. "You'll love this. Dominic tried to file a counter-motion for temporary spousal support this morning, claiming he's financially destitute and needs you to maintain his living expenses while the annulment is pending."
I raised an eyebrow. "Spousal support? On what grounds?"
"On the grounds that he's a desperate idiot," Parker laughed, pulling up a chair. "Our family trust attorneys destroyed his motion before the judge even finished reading the first page. Under our pre-nuptial agreement—which Dominic signed without reading three days before the wedding, assuming you had no assets—any attempt to commit fraud, infidelity, or criminal acts against the primary spouse results in total financial forfeiture. He walks away with literally zero dollars and the clothes on his back."
"What about Eleanor and Chloe?" I asked.
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"Eleanor posted bail this morning using her husband's last remaining retirement account, but their family home in Bellevue is currently being foreclosed by our real estate holding company," Parker explained. "They’re being evicted by Wednesday afternoon. As for Chloe... her brand-new husband has already filed for an emergency annulment himself, citing fraud and public humiliation."
Poetic justice was a remarkably efficient mechanism.
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