The fluorescent lights in courtroom 3B felt like they were burning holes through my skull. My husband, Trevor, leaned back in his chair with that smug smile I’d grown to hate. Three years of marriage, and I was finally seeing him for who he really was.
Nothing, however, could have prepared me for what was about to happen next.
“Your Honor,” Trevor’s lawyer, Michael Cross, stood up, his expensive suit and slicked-back hair radiating arrogance. “My client has been more than patient. Mrs.
Blackwood has been trying to hide assets and deny my client his rightful share of the marital estate.”
My stomach twisted. “Mrs. Blackwood.” I’d kept my maiden name, Martinez, for my business, but legally, I was still tied to this man.
Judge Patricia Henley, a stern woman in her late 50s with silver hair pulled back in a tight bun, looked over her glasses at the papers.
“Mr. Cross, please present your client’s final demands.”
Trevor stood slowly, that familiar gleam in his eyes—the same look he got when closing a big investment deal. Except this time, I was the deal.
“Your Honor,” Trevor’s voice carried across the silent courtroom. “I’m not asking for anything unreasonable. California is a community property state.
I’m simply requesting what’s legally mine: half of everything acquired during our marriage.”
He turned to look directly at me, his expression turning almost malicious. “That includes half of Isabella’s tech company, which is now worth approximately $15 million. It also includes half of her grandmother’s estate, which she inherited two years ago—another $8 million in properties and antiques.”
My hands clenched into fists.
My grandmother’s estate. The woman who raised me, who taught me about strength and independence. Trevor wanted half of her legacy, too.
Then Trevor did something that made my blood run cold.
He started laughing. A full, loud laugh that echoed through the courtroom. “I mean, come on,” he chuckled, looking around like he was performing.
“I’m taking half her millions, including her grandmother’s estate, and there’s nothing she can do about it. The law’s on my side.”
The courtroom erupted. Whispers, gasps.
My lawyer, Rebecca Stone, muttered a curse. Judge Henley banged her gavel hard. “Order!
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