My Ceo Husband Sat Me At Table 47 While He Thanked His Mistress For “His” Success. He Didn’t Realize I Own Every Single One Of His Company’s Patents. Who Is The “Housewife” Now?
“Derek talks about you all the time. Used to work in patent law. Very practical.” I thought about Table 47. I thought about seventeen years.
I finished the letter at six a.m. I sent it via certified mail to Metatech’s registered agent.
I CC’d the board of directors, the general counsel, and every major investor. Then, I called Emma’s cell phone.
She answered groggy; fourteen-year-olds were not morning people. “Mom, it’s Saturday.” Emma said.
“I know, baby. I need you to pack a bag. We’re going to Aunt Rachel’s for a few days.” I told her.
“What? Why?” She asked.
“I’ll explain in the car. Pack enough for a week.” I said. “Is something wrong with Dad?” Emma asked.
I looked at the divorce papers I’d had drawn up six months ago when I’d first suspected. I’d been waiting for the right time to file them; apparently, the right time was now.
“No, sweetheart. But things are going to change for a while. Trust me, okay?” I said. “Okay,” she sounded uncertain, but not panicked.
Emma was smart; she’d notice things too, even if she hadn’t said anything. Derek was still asleep when we left.
I left the divorce papers on the kitchen counter, right next to his coffee maker. By the time we arrived at my sister Rachel’s house in Connecticut, my phone had forty-three missed calls.
I turned it off. Rachel opened the door in her bathrobe, took one look at my face, and spoke.
“I’ll make coffee,” Rachel said. We sat at her kitchen table—her immaculate kitchen in her immaculate house that she’d bought with her own salary as a cardiac surgeon.
And I told her everything. “Holy shit,” Rachel said when I finished, “You actually did it. You actually nuked his company.”
“Not yet,” I said, “He has thirty days to comply with the termination terms or negotiate a new agreement.”
“At what price?” Rachel asked. “Every patent in the portfolio, every future patent, and a fifty percent equity stake in perpetuity.” I told her.
Rachel whistled. “He’ll never agree to that.”
“I know,” I said. “So you’re really going to destroy it?” Rachel asked.
I thought about that. “I’m not destroying anything. I’m just taking back what was always mine.”
My phone powered back on around noon. The notifications came flooding in: text messages, voicemails, emails.
Derek: What the fuck did you do? Derek: Elena, answer your phone right now. Derek: You can’t do this. This is my company. Derek: Call me back or I’m calling the police.
I deleted his messages without reading past the preview. There was a voicemail from James Martinez.
“Elena, I don’t know what you did, but Metatech’s general counsel just called me in a panic. They received your termination notice. Derek is threatening to sue. Call me.” James said.
Another voicemail came from Marcus Chen. “Mrs. Torres, this is Marcus Chen from Harbinger Ventures. We need to discuss this matter urgently. Please call me at your earliest convenience.”
And one from a number I didn’t recognize. “Elena, this is Sophia Reeves. I think there’s been a terrible misunderstanding. Derek is very upset; we both are. Please call me so we can resolve this like adults.”
We. She’d said we.
I called James Martinez. “Thank God,” He said when he answered, “Elena, talk to me. What’s your end game here?”
“My end game is getting what I’m owed. Seventeen years of work, James. Seventeen years of my career sacrificed while he built an empire on my IP.” I told him.
“And you know what he said when I asked about it last night? He said, ‘I handled the bureaucracy.'” I continued. “Jesus,” James said.
“I want fifty percent equity, all future patent rights, and a seat on the board. Non-negotiable.” I said. “He’ll fight you,” James said.
“Let him. Every patent is in my name. Torres Patent Holdings owns the IP. The licensing agreement gives me the right to terminate. He can sue all he wants; he’ll lose.” I said.
James was quiet for a moment. “You know this will get ugly.”
“It’s already ugly,” I said. “Fair point. Okay, I’ll draft the proposed settlement terms. But Elena, be prepared. Men like Derek don’t go down easy.” James said.
The Offer of a Lifetime
He was right. By Monday morning, Derek had hired Steinberg and Associates, the most aggressive litigation firm in Boston.
By Monday afternoon, I had a cease and desist letter threatening legal action for tortious interference and breach of marital fiduciary duty. I forwarded it to James with a single line: See you in court.
The story broke on Tuesday. TechCrunch ran the headline: “Metatech Solutions faces IP crisis as co-founder’s wife revokes patent license.”
By Wednesday, it was everywhere. The Wall Street Journal, Forbes, Bloomberg—even local news picked it up.
Thursday morning, I woke up to find my LinkedIn had exploded with connection requests. Patent attorneys I’d never met wanted to discuss collaboration opportunities.
Reporters wanted interviews. And most surprisingly, three different women had sent me messages thanking me for standing up to the boys’ club.
One of them was from a name I recognized: Dr. Sarah Patel, Chief Medical Officer at a competing medical device company. “Dear Elena,” It read, “I don’t know if you remember me, but we met briefly at the Medical Innovation Summit in 2019. I wanted to reach out because I think we might have some mutual interest to discuss. Would you be available for coffee this week?”
I stared at the message. Sarah Patel was a legend in the medical device world. She’d pioneered three different cardiac devices and held over forty patents herself.
I sent back: Friday at 10:00 a.m. She replied within minutes. “Perfect. I’ll send you the address.”
Friday morning, I met Sarah at a coffee shop in Cambridge, not far from MIT. She was smaller than I remembered, maybe five-foot-two, with silver-streaked black hair pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail.
“Elena,” She said, shaking my hand firmly, “Thank you for meeting with me.”
“Of course, though I admit I’m curious why you wanted to,” I said. Sarah smiled. “Because I’ve been watching what you’re doing with Metatech, and I want to offer you a job.”
I blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Biomed Innovations is developing a new line of cardiovascular monitoring devices. We need someone who understands both the technical side and the patent strategy—someone who can think ten steps ahead.” Sarah said.
She leaned forward. “I read your patent applications for the dialysis pump. The claims architecture is brilliant, especially the continuation strategy. That was your work, wasn’t it? Not Derek’s?”
“Yes,” I said quietly.
“I thought so. Derek Torres couldn’t architect his way out of a paper bag. I’ve read his undergraduate thesis. But you? You’re the real deal.” Sarah said.
She slid a folder across the table. “This is our offer. Senior Patent Counsel with equity participation and a seat on our IP strategy committee. Starting salary is $280,000 plus bonus.”
I opened the folder, my hands slightly shaking. The number at the top of the offer letter swam in my vision.
“You’re offering me more than you’re worth, probably,” Sarah said dryly, “But I have a good feeling about you. Plus, it’ll drive Derek absolutely insane when he finds out you’re working for his biggest competitor.”
I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. “Is that a yes?” Sarah asked.
“Can I think about it for a few days?” I asked. “Take a week. But Elena…” She stood up, preparing to leave, “…don’t let him make you small. You’re too talented for that.”
After she left, I sat in the coffee shop for a long time, staring at the offer letter. I’d been making $65,000 at the small firm where I’d worked part-time.
That was the only job I could manage while raising Emma and handling Derek’s patent work for free. My phone rang.
It was a number I didn’t recognize, but I answered anyway. “Elena Torres?” A woman’s voice asked, professional speaking, “This is Catherine Walsh from the Massachusetts Bar Association. I’m calling because we’d like to invite you to speak on a panel about women in patent law at our spring conference.”
