Chapter 2 - Dismantling the Titan of GlassBy sunrise, the sleek, minimalist glass-and-steel headquarters of Lawson Innovations in downtown San Francisco looked less like a cutting-edge tech startup and more like a crime scene.
Garrett sat at his oversized mahogany desk in the corner office on the fortieth floor, staring blankly at his computer screen. The server connection was dead. The cloud architecture—leased through a subsidiary shell company managed by Vance Global—had been wiped clean within forty-eight hours of the christening incident. Every line of proprietary code, every client database, and every financial ledger had vanished into the digital ether.
The heavy oak door of his office slammed open without a knock.
His chief financial officer, David, rushed in, sweating profusely, his tie yanked loose around his collar.
“Garrett! We’re finished!” David shouted, slamming a stack of printed notices onto the desk. “The commercial landlord just locked us out of the hardware labs! The bank accounts have been frozen under federal injunctions for corporate misrepresentation! And our primary hardware suppliers in Taiwan just canceled our manufacturing contracts citing breach of financial covenants!”
Garrett slowly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, dark circles carved deep beneath them. He hadn’t slept. He had spent the entire night calling every venture capitalist, investor, and high-net-worth contact he knew. Not a single person had answered his calls. Word of Vance Global’s wrath had spread through Silicon Valley faster than wildfire. Anyone who associated with Garrett Lawson now was committing corporate suicide.
“Call Vance Global,” Garrett croaked, his voice raw. “Get me in touch with Evelyn’s legal counsel. Tell them... tell them I want to negotiate. We can work out a settlement—retainer, equity split, whatever she wants.”
“Negotiate?” David laughed hysterically, throwing his hands in the air. “Garrett, you don’t have any leverage! They aren’t interested in negotiating! They filed three separate civil lawsuits against you this morning for corporate fraud, breach of fiduciary duty, and defamation of character! Furthermore... they’ve initiated emergency family court proceedings for full custody of your son!”
The word custody hit Garrett like a physical blow to the chest.
“My son?” Garrett stood up so fast his chair tipped backward, crashing loudly against the glass wall. “They can’t take my son! I’m his father!”
“You kicked a chair out from under his grandmother at his christening while four hundred witnesses and three professional recording crews watched, Garrett!” David yelled back, his patience finally snapping. “The video is already trending #1 on every major social media platform! The public thinks you’re a monster, the board thinks you’re a liability, and the courts will think you’re a danger to society!”
Before Garrett could process the full scope of his catastrophe, his private cell phone vibrated on the desk.
With trembling fingers, he picked it up. The caller ID flashed UNKNOWN, but a gut feeling told him who it was. He swiped the screen and pressed it to his ear.
“Evelyn?” Garrett whispered, a pathetic desperation bleeding into his tone. “Evelyn, please... listen to me. Let’s talk. Drop the lawsuits, let’s sit down like adults—”
“I am acting like an adult, Garrett,” Evelyn’s voice came through the speaker—calm, steady, and terrifyingly detached. “Adults take accountability for their actions. Adults protect their children. And adults clean out the trash when it fouls their home.”
“Evelyn, please, I’m begging you,” Garrett choked out, pride completely disintegrating. “I was stressed! The startup pressure—my mother was just trying to help—it was a misunderstanding—”
“Your mother’s bigotry and your own sadistic arrogance are not misunderstandings, Garrett,” Evelyn interrupted smoothly. “They are character traits. And you’ll have plenty of time to reflect on them while you defend yourself in federal court.”
“You can’t do this to me! I’m your husband!”
“Not for much longer,” Evelyn replied. “The divorce papers were delivered to your office reception desk five minutes ago. Sign them, or let my lawyers strip you down to the clothes on your back. Either way, you are out of my life permanently.”
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The line went dead.
Garrett dropped the phone. It clattered against the desk, sliding off the edge and shattering into pieces on the polished concrete floor. He sank slowly into his chair, burying his face in his hands as the reality of his utter, irreversible ruin washed over him.
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