Chapter 4
Sloan's divorce papers were brutal.
She was requesting:
- $5,000 a month in spousal support.
- Half of all marital assets.
- Half the value of the house.
- Half of my savings.
- Half of Richard's life insurance.
- And attorney's fees.
She was claiming that she'd been a "devoted wife" who'd "sacrificed her career" to take care of Harrison and his "ailing mother."
She was painting herself as a victim.
And me as a cruel, aging woman who'd abused her.
And Harrison as a weak, spineless man who'd let it happen.
It was all lies.
But it was dangerous lies.
In a divorce court, lies could win.
Especially if you had a good lawyer.
And Sloan had a very good lawyer.
One of the best divorce attorneys in the city.
David told us we needed to be prepared for a long, ugly fight.
"Sloan is going to try to drag this out," he said. "She's going to try to make it as expensive and painful as possible for you. She's hoping you'll settle. That you'll pay her to go away."
"We won't settle," Harrison said immediately. "She's not getting a dime. Not after everything she did."
"Then we need to build a strong case," David said. "We need to prove fraud. That she entered the marriage solely for financial gain. That she never intended to be a real wife. That she was having an affair throughout the marriage. That she planned to steal from Lorraine. The recording will help. But we need more. We need witnesses. We need evidence of her relationship with Marcus. We need to prove her intent."
Harrison and I looked at each other.
We would do whatever it took.
We started investigating Sloan.
We hired a private investigator.
He found Marcus.
He was a personal trainer.
Handsome.
Charming.
With a criminal record.
Fraud.
Theft.
Domestic violence.
He and Sloan had been together for over two years.
Long before she'd met Harrison.
They'd been seen together.
At restaurants.
At hotels.
At Sloan's apartment.
Even after the wedding.
The PI had photographs.
Text messages.
Phone records.
It was all there.
Proof of the affair.
Proof of the conspiracy.
We also found out about Sloan's past.
She'd been married before.
Twice.
Both times to older men with money.
Both marriages had ended in divorce.
Both times, she'd walked away with a substantial settlement.
She was a professional.
A serial gold digger.
And Harrison had been her next target.
I felt sick when I read the reports.
My son had been just another mark.
Another victim.
But I also felt hope.
This was exactly what we needed.
To prove fraud.
To have the marriage annulled.
To make sure Sloan got nothing.
We presented all the evidence to David.
He was impressed.
"This is good," he said. "Very good. With this, we have a strong case for annulment. And we can also file criminal charges against Sloan and Marcus. For conspiracy to commit financial exploitation of an elder. For fraud. For attempted theft."
"Can we really do that?" Harrison asked.
"We can," David said. "And we should. Sloan needs to be stopped. Before she does this to someone else."
We filed for annulment.
And we filed criminal charges.
Sloan was furious.
She called Harrison.
She screamed at him.
Threatened him.
Called him every name in the book.
Harrison just listened.
Calmly.
And then he said, "My lawyer will handle everything. Don't call me again."
And he hung up.
He blocked her number.
He blocked her on social media.
He cut her out of his life completely.
I was proud of him.
He was getting stronger every day.
The old Harrison was coming back.
But Sloan wasn't going down without a fight.
She gave an interview to a local tabloid.
*SOCIALITE WIFE ABUSED BY RICH MOTHER-IN-LAW*
The article was full of lies.
It claimed I'd been emotionally abusive to Sloan.
That I'd kept her prisoner in my home.
That I'd burned her purse out of jealousy.
That Harrison was too weak to stand up to me.
It made me look like a monster.
And it made Sloan look like a victim.
The comments were brutal.
People were calling me names.
Saying I should be ashamed.
Saying Sloan deserved better.
My reputation was being destroyed.
Neighbors stared at me when I walked down the street.
People whispered behind my back.
Even some of my friends stopped calling.
It hurt.
But I didn't back down.
"Ignore it," David said. "It's just a tactic. She's trying to pressure you into settling. To make you so embarrassed that you'll pay her to go away. Don't give her the satisfaction."
Brenda was furious.
She called the tabloid.
She wrote letters to the editor.
She told everyone who would listen the truth about Sloan.
And slowly, people started to listen.
Neighbors who'd seen what happened at the party came forward.
They told the truth about the cake.
About Sloan's attitude.
About the way she'd treated me.
The tide started to turn.
But Sloan had one more trick up her sleeve.
One that would hit us where it hurt most.
One morning, we got a call from the hospital.
Sloan had been admitted.
She'd had a miscarriage.
And she was claiming the stress of the divorce and my "abuse" had caused it.
She was pregnant.
May you like
Or at least, she claimed she had been.
And she was going to use this to destroy us.
