My Mother Demanded I Divorce My Husband And Give Him Our House Because He Got My Sister Pregnant. Little Do They Know, I’m A Cfo And Have Already Secured The Assets. How Do I Tell Them They’re Now Trespassing On My Property?

The Shark

Diana Sterling’s office was all glass and steel, perched on the 40th floor of a skyscraper in Midtown Manhattan. It screamed expensive, which was exactly what I needed. Diana herself was a woman in her 50s with a razor-sharp bob and eyes that looked like they could burn through a bank vault.

She listened to my story without interruption, taking notes on a legal pad. Zoe sat beside me, nodding in confirmation. When I was finished, Diana took a sip of water and looked at the stack of documents I’d brought.

“Good,”

she said, her voice calm and authoritative.

“Let’s assess the damage first.”

She picked up the prenup. She scanned it. Her eyebrows rose slightly.

“Who drafted this?”

“My old corporate lawyer,”

I said.

“Is it valid?”

“It’s ironclad,”

Diana said. A small smile played on her lips.

“Section 4, Clause B: In the event of proven infidelity, the at-fault party forfeits all claims to any appreciation of marital property and waives all rights to alimony. And look at this definition of infidelity. It includes emotional affairs and financial malfeasance.”

She looked up at me.

“Greg didn’t read this, did he?”

“No, he said legal language gave him a headache,”

I admitted.

“Good for us,”

Diana said.

“Now let’s talk about the house. You said it’s in an LLC, Miller Holdings LLC?”

“I confirmed. I bought it 6 months before the wedding.”

“And you never added his name to the LLC’s articles of organization?”

“No.”

“Did you use joint funds to pay the mortgage?”

“Sometimes,”

I faltered.

“From the joint account.”

Diana frowned.

“That creates a commingling issue. He could claim he contributed to the equity.”

“But,”

I interrupted, pulling out the spreadsheet Zoe and I had made last night,

“I can prove that every single dollar in the joint account came from my salary. Greg hasn’t contributed a dime in 5 years. In fact, these records show he was withdrawing joint funds for personal use. Online gambling. Gifts for Barbara. Trips.”

Diana took the spreadsheet. Her eyes scanned the columns.

“He spent over $20,000 on online poker last year?”

“Apparently,”

I said. I felt a flush of shame. I hadn’t been checking the details; I was just paying the total bill.

“This is embezzlement,”

Diana stated flatly.

“He was taking funds entrusted to the marital partnership and diverting them for illicit purposes. We can argue that any equity he might claim was nullified by his theft.”

She leaned back in her chair.

“Veronica, here’s the situation. Legally, you are in a very strong position. But practically, these things get messy. Judges hate family squabbles. If we go to court, it will take two years. Your parents will testify. It will be ugly.”

“I don’t care,”

I said.

“I want him left with nothing.”

“I understand,”

Diana said.

“But there’s a smarter way. We play on their greed.”

She laid out a plan. We would call it the Honey Trap.

“They think you’re emotional and weak,”

Diana explained.

“They think you’re desperate to keep the peace. So we’re going to play into that. We will draft a settlement agreement. We will make it look like you’re giving them exactly what they want—a quick divorce so they can get married and be a ‘real family.’ But in the fine print, we will specify the division of assets based on the strict terms of the prenup and the LLC ownership.”

“They won’t sign that,”

Zoe said.

“They will if they don’t read it,”

Diana countered.

“Or if they think they’re getting something better. We’ll structure it so Greg waives his rights to the potential value of your company stock, which he thinks is huge, in exchange for you not suing him for his gambling debts and fraud.”

“But I keep the house?”

I asked.

“Absolutely,”

Diana said.

“The house stays with the LLC. The agreement will state that Greg vacates the property upon final divorce decree, but we’ll word it to sound like a temporary transition. We will let them believe they are winning right up until the ink is dry.”

“It’s risky,”

I said.

“It relies on their arrogance.”

“Agreed,”

Diana said.

“But from what you’ve told me, Greg and your sister are not detail-oriented people. They’re opportunists. They will see quick divorce and waiver of lawsuit and they will sign.”

I remembered Greg’s face as he’d left my house. You’re just a bitter old hag with your spreadsheets. He underestimated me. He always had.

“Let’s do it,”

I said.

“One more thing,”

Diana added.

“We need to secure your assets immediately. Cancel all the credit cards. Freeze the joint accounts. Redirect your paycheck today. Right now.”

“He’ll notice,”

I said.

“He’ll freak out.”

“Let him,”

Diana said coldly.

“He was spending your money to date your sister. The party is over.”

Walking out of Diana’s office, I felt lighter than I had in years. I had a plan. I had a team. I went straight to the bank. I sat with the branch manager and systematically dismantled the financial life Greg and I had built. I closed the credit cards. I removed him as an authorized user. I transferred the bulk of our savings into a new account solely in my name.

As I walked out of the bank, my phone buzzed. A notification from the credit card app: Transaction Declined. Starbucks $8.50.

He was buying coffee for two. A latte for him probably, and a decaf for Barbara. And for the first time, the card didn’t work.

I smiled. It was a small, petty victory, but it tasted sweet.

“Sorry Greg,”

I whispered to the phone.

“Looks like you’re paying cash today.”

But the real test was yet to come. I had to go to them. I had to look them in the eyes and pretend to be broken. All while holding the knife that was about to sever the cord.

I texted my father: I’m ready to talk. Let’s meet.

The trap was set. Now I just had to make sure I didn’t throw up when I saw them.