Chapter 4 - Clause 7.2**
By morning the headlines were already written.
*PROMOTION GALA SHOCK — VANTAGE MERIDIAN DIRECTOR OUSTED IN PUBLIC FALLOUT*
*MARRIAGE OVER BEFORE SPEECH ENDS — WHO IS CLAIRE MERCER?*
I sat at the kitchen island of the home we’d shared—*my* home, purchased long before the wedding—and scrolled through the reports.
Daniel was giving interviews.
"I don’t know what happened," he told a business news outlet, eyes earnest. "Claire has been under immense stress. She’s… from a rural background. This life overwhelms her. I’m concerned for her well-being."
I closed the app.
Eleanor arrived ten minutes later with a folder and a tablet.
"Fire department preliminary report," she said, setting it down. "They’re calling it electrical. But our investigator says the burn pattern is wrong. Concentrated. Accelerant residue is likely—lab results pending."
She tapped the tablet.
"Also, Daniel’s legal team sent this. A demand letter. Spousal support, property division, fifty percent of all marital assets."
I opened the letter. It was aggressive, demanding, confident.
"He thinks he’s entitled," I said.
"He expects you to settle quietly to avoid embarrassment," Eleanor said. "He’s banking on you wanting this over. On you folding."
I reached for the prenuptial agreement—kept in the top drawer, untouched since signing. I flipped to the highlighted section.
Clause 7.2.
*"If either party conceals or misrepresents material identity, financial control, or beneficial ownership of assets relevant to the marriage, this agreement and all entitlements derived from it shall be voided in full."*
I slid the paper across the counter.
"Reply to his lawyer," I said. "Reference clause 7.2. State that his entitlement is zero. And include the acquisition filing showing Harlow Capital purchased the controlling share before we ever met."
Eleanor’s eyebrows lifted.
"Before you met?"
"My grandfather transferred it into my personal trust five years ago. Daniel didn’t just marry into wealth. He married into a company I already held."
A slow, sharp smile touched Eleanor’s lips.
"He never asked."
"He never listened," I said. "I told him. Several times. He laughed it off as charming family stories."
Eleanor typed fast.
"He’ll claim you deliberately misled him."
"I never lied. I just didn’t volunteer information he wasn’t interested in hearing."
Her typing paused.
"One more thing. The farm gate footage. It’s gone. Wiped clean. The system was accessed remotely and deleted."
My jaw tightened.
"By whom?"
"IP traces back to a server registered to… a shell company. No name attached. But the timing matches exactly when Daniel left the gala."
I stood and walked to the window. The sky was pale gray, heavy with coming rain.
"He’s not just fighting for money," I said quietly. "He’s destroying what matters to me."
"Then we don’t fight fair," Eleanor said. "We fight by the rules—the ones he broke."
I turned back.
"Pull the full financial history. Every transfer, every withdrawal, every payment to an account I don’t recognize. If he’s hiding something, I want it found."
Eleanor nodded.
"It will be done by tonight."
I smoothed my dress hem—again, again.
May you like
Daniel thought he could scare me into silence.
He was wrong.
