Chapter 10 - The Extended Web
“Your daughter?” I repeated, gripping the edge of the mahogany desk so hard my knuckles turned stark white. “Who the hell is this?”
“My name is Victoria Sterling,” the voice replied calmly, carrying an aristocratic chill that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. “And your dear husband, Tyler, has been working for my family’s aviation logistics firm for over five years. He wasn't just flying commercial routes, Sarah. He was running transport routes for our private asset division across the Midwest.”
My mind raced, trying to connect the dots of a nightmare that was expanding far beyond a simple suburban infidelity.
“I don't care about your assets, and I don't care about your logistics firm,” I snapped, my voice rising in sharp defiance. “Tyler is unemployed, his license is gone, and our marriage is over. Leave me out of whatever corporate games you’re playing.”
“Oh, my dear, you were never outside the game,” Victoria chuckled softly, a dark, humorless sound that chilled me to the bone. “When Tyler married you nine years ago, he wasn't just picking a suburban schoolteacher. He was securing a clean, untraceable domestic front for our operations in Ohio. And now that he’s ruined, guess whose name is listed as the secondary guarantor on all of his corporate liabilities?”
My breath caught in my throat.
“That’s right, Sarah,” Victoria continued smoothly. “The moment Tyler’s aviation credentials were pulled by the FAA, our legal team automatically defaulted his multi-million-dollar corporate debts directly onto your joint marital assets. Your house, your bank accounts, your son’s college fund—they legally belong to my estate now.”
Before I could scream a curse into the phone, the front doorbell downstairs rang out with a sharp, echoing chime.
Ding-dong.
May you like
I stood frozen in the middle of the office, the Chicago property deed clutched in my trembling hand, as a heavy knock rattled the front door downstairs.
“Go open the door, Sarah,” Victoria whispered softly before disconnecting the call. “Your new life has just arrived.”
