Chapter 5 - The Corporate Dissection
By Friday morning, the fallout from the defense had transformed from a local university scandal into a corporate execution.
I sat in my father’s high-rise office downtown, drinking a cup of black coffee. The room was surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a view of the city that felt vast and clean. On the glass desk lay a series of corporate filings, personal asset statements, and the formal divorce petition my attorney had prepared.
My father sat across from me, a tablet in his hand, his expression completely devoid of mercy.
"Daniel's logistics firm, Miller Global Group, was heavily leveraged, Claire," my father said, tapping the screen. "They were relying on a three-million-dollar small business credit line from the State Bank to fund their new automated tracking division—the division that was supposed to use your stolen source code. The bank pulled the funding at 9:00 a.m. yesterday morning after the news of his arrest broke."
"And the competitor in Chicago?" I asked.
"They issued a formal press release denying any knowledge of Daniel's actions," my father smiled coldly. "They’ve canceled all preliminary contracts with him and threatened to sue his shell company for fraud. Daniel is personally liable for the corporate debts. Because he used our joint marital home as collateral for the business loans without your knowledge—which is a violation of state community property laws—my legal team has filed to have the lien transferred entirely to his personal share of the estate."
"What about Lorraine?"
"Lorraine's primary source of income was a trust fund established by her late husband," my father said, closing the tablet with a sharp, definitive click. "A trust fund that happens to be managed by a wealth management firm my company acquired last year. There is a strict moral turpitude clause in the trust agreement. A felony conviction for domestic battery and corporate espionage automatically forfeits her distribution rights. The money will be diverted to the state's educational scholarship fund."
The heavy mahogany door of the office opened, and my attorney, Sarah Sterling, walked in. She was carrying a thin leather binder.
"The divorce papers have been served to Daniel in his holding cell," Sarah said, sitting down beside me. "He was hysterical. He kept demanding to speak with you, claiming that you owe him half of the patent value because the research was conducted while you were married."
"He doesn't understand copyright law," I said flatly. "The research was funded by a direct grant from the university, which holds the primary institutional rights, and my personal contract specifies that the secondary commercial patent is held under my maiden name's private trust. He has no legal claim to a single line of that code."
"He knows," Sarah smiled. "But his defense attorney told him that if he signs the full asset waiver and agrees to a permanent, mutual restraining order, the district attorney might consider dropping the witness tampering charge, which carries a mandatory five-year sentence."
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I looked out the window at the distant mountains. "Tell him I’ll consider it if he and his mother plead guilty to the felony battery charges. I want their names in the state criminal registry. I want every future employer, every neighbor, and every bank to see exactly who they are when they look them up."
"Consider it done, Dr. Vance," Sarah said.
