He divorced his wife to marry his mistress, never realizing she had just bought the company that paid his new lover’s salary

The conference room at Stone, Vance & Miller on Monday morning resembled a war room. Maps, financial spreadsheets, asset valuations, and depositions were plastered across three massive whiteboards.

Miranda Stone stood at the head of the table holding a red pen, circling a line item with savage satisfaction.

“We blindsided his legal counsel at 8:30 AM sharp,” Miranda announced, looking at Naomi, who sat calmly sipping black coffee at the center of the table. “Garrett’s lawyer—some ambulance-chaser named Henderson—tried to file a motion for temporary spousal support and a fifty-fifty split of pre-marital assets.”

Naomi arched an eyebrow. “And how did that go for him?”

“About as well as a snowball surviving a blowtorch,” Miranda grinned wickedly. “I dropped our counter-petition on his desk along with Sienna Brooks’s signed confession, three years of fraudulent corporate expense logs, and proof that Garrett has been using marital funds to support his mistress for over fourteen months.”

Miranda tossed a thick legal brief onto the table.

“Under Colorado law, dissipation of marital assets for the benefit of a paramour constitutes a gross breach of fiduciary duty within a marriage. Not only is Garrett entitled to zero spousal support, but we are also petitioning the court to hold him financially liable for the stolen TechVista funds he directly benefited from.”

Naomi traced the rim of her coffee cup, her expression unreadable. “Did he try to call me?”

“Your phone has been ringing off the hook since 9:00 AM,” Miranda said, tapping her tablet. “He called seventy-four times in two hours. He also sent forty text messages ranging from *‘Naomi, please let’s talk’* to *‘You’re a cold-hearted monster.’* I blocked his number on your phone ten minutes ago.”

“Good,” Naomi said simply.

The door to the conference room opened, and a junior associate stepped in, holding a fresh stack of documents. “Ms. Bennett, Ms. Stone. We just received notice from the federal prosecutor’s office regarding Sienna Brooks.”

Naomi looked up. “Go on.”

“Because of the comprehensive nature of the evidence your forensic team provided, the DA’s office has decided to offer Sienna a plea deal: full immunity from federal wire fraud charges in exchange for turning state’s evidence against her co-conspirators.”

Miranda let out a sharp laugh. “Co-conspirators? Meaning Garrett?”

“Exactly,” the associate nodded. “Sienna’s legal team just submitted a supplementary affidavit confirming that Garrett didn’t just benefit from the fraudulent expenses—he actively coached her on how to code the travel receipts so they wouldn’t trigger Bennett Capital’s automated audit filters.”

Naomi stared at the affidavit for a long, quiet moment. The sheer stupidity of it staggered her. Garrett had spent years pretending to be a brilliant visionary, yet his grand scheme to fund his mistress relied on amateurish accounting tricks that a first-year intern could spot.

“So,” Naomi said, standing up and buttoning her blazer. “Garrett is officially looking at criminal exposure for aiding and abetting corporate fraud, alongside total financial ruin in the divorce.”

“Total ruin,” Miranda confirmed, her eyes gleaming with professional triumph. “He’ll be lucky if he walks away with the clothes on his back and his old Honda Civic. No house, no alimony, no savings, and a very high probability of facing criminal indictment.”

Naomi walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out over the bustling Denver streets below. For the first time in eight years, the heavy, crushing weight she had carried on her shoulders—the constant need to rescue Garrett, to apologize for his failures, to protect his fragile ego—was entirely gone.