The Secret Mansion Across the Street

Monday morning arrived with the crisp, professional energy of a new beginning.

I dropped Donovan off at his elite private preschool—where his tuition was fully paid a year in advance—and drove straight downtown to Marcus Vance’s corporate law offices on the thirty-fifth floor of the Sterling Tower.

The conference room offered a panoramic view of the Phoenix skyline, glittering under the morning sun.

Marcus was already seated at the mahogany table, alongside a court-certified family law attorney named Sarah Jenkins, who specialized in high-net-worth contentious divorces.

“Taylor, good morning,” Sarah greeted me, extending her hand. “Marcus tells me you’re ready to file.”

“I’m more than ready,” I said, taking a seat and sliding my tablet across the table. “I want to file for immediate dissolution of marriage on grounds of financial fraud, embezzlement, and breach of fiduciary trust. Furthermore, I want sole legal and physical custody of Donovan, with supervised visitation for Caden only if he passes court-mandated substance and stability evaluations.”

Sarah reviewed the preliminary documents, her eyebrows rising in professional appreciation. “With the financial evidence Marcus compiled—including the four hundred thousand in diverted LLC dividends and the forged tax forms—we can push for an expedited default judgment. Given that Caden has zero liquid assets left, he won't even be able to retain independent counsel unless his family bails him out.”

“His family is broke,” Marcus laughed dryly. “Evelyn—sorry, Bonnie—has been trying to liquidate her designer handbags at a local pawn shop downtown, but most of them turned out to be high-end replicas she bought on discount years ago.”

A knock sounded on the conference room door.

My assistant poked her head in. “Ms. Taylor? You have a visitor in the lobby. It’s Mr. Caden Miller. He’s demanding to speak with you.”

Sarah Jenkins smiled thinly. “Well, look who decided to show up for reality check Monday.”