Chapter 2 - THE FROZEN ASSETSThe police report was filed within an hour. Because of my CID credentials and the clear physical evidence—the shards of the plate, the splatter of food across the wall, and the multi-angle smart-home camera footage I conveniently downloaded from my living room hub—Jackson was formally cited for domestic assault and property destruction.
He spent the night in a holding cell. Not because I couldn't have bailed him out, but because I wanted him to sit in a concrete box and contemplate the exact moment he ruined his life.
By 8:00 AM the next morning, I was sitting across from my lawyer, Marcus Vance (no relation, thankfully, just the best corporate and military divorce attorney on the East Coast).
"Maya, this is a goldmine," Marcus said, scrolling through a massive tablet of financial data I had forwarded him overnight. "Not only do we have an open-and-shut case for an immediate, fault-based divorce, but you’ve uncovered something much bigger."
"Tell me," I said, taking a sip of black coffee.
"When Jackson begged you to put his name on the deed last year 'for tax purposes,' did you do it?"
"No," I smiled grimly. "I’m in CID, Marcus. I don't sign legal documents without running a background check on the premise first. The apartment remains exclusively in my name, purchased with pre-marital military deployment savings and inheritance from my grandfather. But..."
"But what?"
"Look at Jackson’s personal corporate accounts. That’s what I spent the last three hours analyzing."
Marcus zoomed in on a spreadsheet. His eyes widened. "Good grief. He’s been funneling corporate client funds from his architectural firm into a secondary account... registered under Genesis’s name."
"Embezzlement and tax evasion," I nodded. "His firm, Sterling & Wright, has been auditing federal contracts. Jackson isn't just a deadbeat husband; he’s a corporate thief. And his parents aren't just greedy—they’re his accomplices. They’ve been living off laundered funds for over two years."
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"And they thought they could take your apartment to secure a free luxury asset to hide more stolen capital," Marcus realized, staring at me in sheer awe. "Maya, you didn't just walk into a trap. You walked into a lion's den wearing a meat suit, and now the lions are locked in a cage with a trained sniper."
"Let's freeze every single asset they share," I instructed coldly. "I want Jackson's personal accounts, Genesis's retirement funds, and Richard’s fraudulent shell companies locked down by noon. Let’s see how comfortable they live when they can't even buy a cup of coffee."
