Chapter 12 - The house Julian demanded
Julian had entered court demanding our home.
He never understood the irony.
The house was the easiest asset to trace.
My father had contributed a substantial portion of the original purchase funds.
Julian later refinanced the property.
Then refinanced it again.
One of the documents carried my forged signature.
Thomas confirmed he had warned Julian not to do it.
Julian did it anyway.
The proceeds had partially funded another property.
A townhouse.
Chloe’s townhouse.
When I learned that, I looked at the diamond bracelet on Chloe’s wrist.
She removed it.
“I’ll return it.”
“Keep it.”
She stared at me.
“I don’t want anything from that marriage anymore.”
Neither did I.
Financial investigators began untangling years of transactions.
The company’s board suspended Julian from his executive authority pending investigation.
Accounts connected to questionable transfers were frozen or restricted as legally appropriate.
The storage unit was searched pursuant to proper authority.
Inside were boxes.
Dozens.
Original invoices.
Corporate seals.
Signature samples.
And files containing my personal financial information.
Julian had prepared for divorce like a corporate takeover.
But he had made one fatal mistake.
He believed I had stopped being an accountant when I became a mother.
I hadn’t.
I had simply stopped being paid for it.
Then investigators found a folder labeled with Maya’s name.
Inside were documents concerning her trust.
Draft petitions.
Financial projections.
And notes describing potential annual withdrawals if Julian obtained primary custody.
One handwritten line appeared repeatedly.
Custody first. Access second.
When I saw it, whatever grief remained for my marriage disappeared.
May you like
Julian hadn’t simply tried to take my daughter from me.
He had put a price on doing it.
