Chapter 12 - The Fall of the Reynolds Dynasty
As I gathered my children toward the foyer, Marcus made one last, desperate, pathetic gamble. He sprinted around the dining table, positioning himself in front of the grand exit, his eyes wide and unhinged.
"You're not leaving with them!" Marcus yelled, his voice echoing frantically down the hallway. "They're my children! I have parental rights! I’m taking this to family court tomorrow morning! I’ll sue for full physical custody! I’ll claim you alienated them from me! You’ll be forced to split your assets with me to settle the custody dispute!"
The two security guards moved to physically remove him, but I raised my hand, signaling them to wait.
I looked at Marcus with sheer, unadulterated pity.
"Do you really want to talk about family court, Marcus?" I asked smoothly. "Because while you were spending the last eight years attending charity galas with Chloe, my legal team was compiling an exhaustive dossier of your personal and corporate activities."
I pulled a second slim flash drive from my coat pocket and held it up between my fingers.
"On this drive, Marcus, are eight years of your personal bank records showing systematic tax evasion through shell entities in the Cayman Islands. There are sworn affidavits from your former logistics managers detailing how you falsified safety inspections on commercial freight trucks to cut operational costs. And there is an audio recording of your conversation with your CFO last month discussing how to siphon Vance Capital's bridge loan into your personal offshore account."
Marcus’s jaw dropped. The breath left his lungs in a sharp, wheezing gasp.
"If you file a single motion in family court," I continued, each word landing like a sledgehammer, "this drive will be delivered directly to the United States Attorney’s Office for the District of Colorado. You won't get custody, Marcus. You won't get fifty percent of my assets. You will get twenty-five years in a federal penitentiary."
Marcus stepped back, his back hitting the heavy oak door. His knees buckled slightly, and he had to brace himself against the wall to keep from falling.
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"You... you're a monster," he whispered, his voice trembling in terror.
"No, Marcus," I replied, stepping past him as my security team pushed the heavy oak doors open into the crisp mountain air. "I'm just a mother who refused to let you destroy her children."
