“What do you want, Frank?”
“I want to make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“I drop the trust claim, you drop the restraining order and the divorce proceedings. We go back to being married, and we pretend none of this ever happened.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Think about it, Patricia. You give me another chance, and I give you back your money. I stay with you, and you stay rich. Win-win.”
“Frank, you cheated on me. You humiliated me. You tried to steal my house and my business. You told me I was old and worthless.”
“I made mistakes. I was going through a midlife crisis. It happens to everyone.”
“It doesn’t happen to everyone. It happens to selfish people who think their feelings matter more than other people’s lives.”
“Patricia, be practical. If this goes to court, you could lose millions. Millions. Is your pride really worth that much?”
That’s when I realized something that changed everything. Frank wasn’t calling from a position of weakness. He was calling from a position of strength because he thought he held all the cards. He thought I’d be so terrified of losing my money that I’d take him back just to keep it. He thought I was still the same frightened woman who’d rather be miserable than alone.
He thought wrong.
“Frank,” I said calmly. “Let me ask you something. How much do you think I’m worth?”
“What do you mean?”
“My net worth. How much do you think I have?”
“I don’t know. A few million maybe.”
“Try again.”
Silence on the other end of the line.
“Frank, you lived with me for 28 years, but you never paid attention to anything I actually did. You never looked at the real financial statements, never asked about the investments, never wondered why I worked such long hours or why I was always on the phone with lawyers and accountants.”
“Patricia, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying you have no idea what you’re really fighting for, and you’re about to find out why that’s a problem.”
I hung up the phone and called Margaret.
“Margaret, it’s time for phase four. Get ready to show Frank exactly what he’s been taking for granted all these years.”
Phase four. The one where he discovers that the trust is the least of his worries. Because Frank had just made his final mistake. He’d threatened to take what was mine, assuming I’d be too scared to fight back. He was about to learn the difference between someone who’s afraid of losing everything and someone who’s ready to burn it all down just to watch him cry.
The court hearing was scheduled for the following Friday at 9:00 a.m. Frank arrived in his only remaining suit, the navy blue one I’d bought him for our anniversary three years ago. He looked confident, almost smug, like a man who was certain he was about to win the lottery. He had no idea what was about to hit him.
Margaret and I took our seats across from Frank and his lawyer, a sharp-eyed man named David Parker, who’d built his reputation on complex financial cases. Parker had clearly done his homework, and I could see the thick folder of documents he’d prepared.
“Your Honor,” Parker began when the judge called our case. “My client is seeking his rightful share of marital assets that his wife has attempted to hide through illegal property transfers and financial manipulation.”
The judge, a stern-looking woman in her sixties named Judge Harrison, looked over her reading glasses at the paperwork.
“This concerns a trust established in 1998?”
“Yes, Your Honor. The Williams Family Trust, which my client co-established with his wife, and which gives him equal rights to trust assets valued at approximately $4 million.”
Frank was practically glowing. Four million dollars was more money than he’d ever imagined having access to.
Judge Harrison turned to Margaret.
“Counselor, how does your client respond to these claims?”
Margaret stood slowly, and I caught the slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
“Your Honor, Mrs. Williams does not dispute the existence of the trust. However, she would like to present evidence regarding the full scope of marital assets that Mr. Williams is claiming.”
“Proceed.”
Margaret opened her own folder and pulled out a single sheet of paper.
“Your Honor, Mr. Williams has based his claim on the assumption that the Williams Family Trust represents the majority of his wife’s assets. However, he has been operating with incomplete information.”
She handed copies of the document to the judge, to Parker, and to Frank. Frank’s face went white as he read it.
“Your Honor,” Margaret continued. “Mrs. Williams’s total net worth is not $4 million, as Mr. Williams believed. According to this certified financial statement prepared by the accounting firm of Bradley, Thompson, and Associates, Mrs. Williams’s current net worth is approximately $47 million.”
The courtroom was dead silent. Frank’s mouth was hanging open like a broken gate.
“The Williams Family Trust represents less than 10% of Mrs. Williams’s total assets. The majority of her wealth comes from real estate investments, stock portfolios, and business ventures that were purchased and developed using her inheritance money, not marital assets.”
Judge Harrison was reading the financial statement with raised eyebrows.
“Mrs. Williams, is this accurate?”
I stood up.
“Yes, Your Honor. My husband lived with me for 28 years, but he never took an interest in our finances beyond spending money. He has no idea what I’ve been building during our marriage.”