“That’s… that’s out of context!” Keith stammered. “That was a private joke! A heated moment!”
“In the eyes of the law, Keith, a ‘heated moment’ that leverages the life of a family member is called duress,” Catherine said, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “And duress doesn’t just scratch the paint on a contract. It demolishes the entire structure.”
She tossed a three-inch-thick binder onto Garrison’s table with a THUD that made the “Butcher of Broadway” jump.
“In that binder, you’ll find the forensic trail of the forty-two million dollars Mr. Simmons has spent the last six months moving through shell companies in the Caymans and a very poorly hidden trust in Luxembourg. My team spent the night dismantling your firewalls, Garrison. It turns out, when you use the same password for your offshore accounts as you do for your Peloton account, you aren’t actually a genius. You’re just a thief with a gym membership.”
Keith sank back into his chair. The shark was gone. The predator had become the prey. He looked at me, and for the first time in seven years, I didn’t see the man who controlled my world. I saw a small, terrified executive who had invited a goddess of war to his own execution.
Chapter 5: The Demolition and the Dawn
The atmosphere in Courtroom 304 had shifted from a funeral to an execution. The hum of the fluorescent lights now felt like a high-tension wire ready to snap. Judge Henderson was no longer leaning back; he was perched on the edge of his bench, his eyes darting between the digital evidence on the screen and the shattered man at the plaintiff’s table.
“Mr. Ford,” the Judge said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low rumble. “Do you have a rebuttal for Exhibit C? Or should I move straight to the part where I refer this file to the District Attorney for potential bankruptcy fraud?”
