Chapter 5 - The Medical Files
The forensic audit didn't just uncover financial irregularities; it uncovered a history of calculated cruelty.
Diane sat across from me in my sunroom, sipping tea while spreading out a series of medical billing statements across the glass table. The afternoon sun caught the silver frames of my glasses.
“I had our investigators look into the hospital records from your surgery last month,” Diane said, her voice tight with suppressed anger. “Eleanor, do you know why your recovery has been so difficult?”
I looked down at my hands. “Because I’m seventy-three?”
“No,” Diane said, sliding a document toward me. “Because Thomas instructed his administrative assistant to hold your post-operative prescription authorizations for three days while he was finalizing the transfer of the primary accounts. He wanted you weak so you couldn't contest the initial separation filing.”
I stared at the paper. My own husband—the man I had nursed through a heart attack ten years ago—had deliberately delayed my medication to gain a legal advantage in a divorce.
“He really thought I was disposable,” I said softly.
“He’s going to find out how expensive disposables are,” Diane replied, pulling out another folder. “We have him on three distinct criminal counts: corporate fraud, embezzlement of venture capital funds via Vanguard Holdings, and reckless endangerment of a dependent spouse.”
“I don't want him in prison, Diane,” I said, looking up.
Diane blinked in surprise. “Eleanor, after what he did? After the way he threw you out while you were still recovering?”
“Prison is too easy,” I said, a cold, calm certainty settling into my bones. “Prison gives him a routine. It gives him people to blame. I want him to experience what it’s like to lose every single thing he used to measure his worth. I want him to walk out of that courtroom with nothing.”
Diane stared at me for a long moment, then a slow, approving smile spread across her face. “You are the most dangerous woman I have ever met.”
“I’m just an old woman who paid attention,” I corrected.
“The court date for the preliminary injunction hearing is set for Friday morning,” Diane said, gathering her files. “The judge is Judge Harrison. He despises white-collar deceit. Thomas’s new high-priced defense attorney, Marcus Vance—no relation to me, unfortunately—is going to try to claim mental stress and corporate oversight failure.”
“Marcus Vance loves the spotlight,” I observed. “Feed him a distraction.”
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“What kind of distraction?”
“Let the media know that Grant Holdings is facing a hostile forensic takeover by an anonymous majority stakeholder,” I said. “Watch how fast Thomas’s business partners abandon him when they realize his name is no longer a shield.”
