Chapter 3 - The Courthouse Entrance
The marble halls of the downtown family court building echoed with the sharp click of my designer heels. I wore a tailored, charcoal-grey Armani pantsuit that cost more than Doug’s entire new wardrobe, paired with a vintage silk blouse and a diamond pendant necklace that had belonged to my grandmother.
As I approached Courtroom 4B, I spotted Doug standing near the double doors. He was flanked by his high-priced attorney, a man in a bespoke navy suit who looked like a shark smelling blood in the water. Doug looked phenomenal—or so he thought. He had a smug, self-satisfied grin plastered across his face, rocking back on the heels of his expensive leather shoes.
When he saw me walking down the corridor, his smirk widened into an open sneer.
"Well, look who decided to show up," Doug loudly proclaimed, making sure nearby attorneys and bailiffs could hear him. "Thought you'd try to dodge the summons, Evie? Didn't expect you to actually show your face after realizing you're walking away with zero dollars of my lottery money."
His attorney gave a polite, condescending chuckle, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses. "Mr. Carter, let's maintain decorum before we enter the chambers. The judge does not look favorably upon public harassment."
"Right, right, my apologies, counselor," Doug said, waving a dismissive hand. He turned back to me, his eyes gleaming with malicious triumph. "Seriously, Evie, I hope you saved enough for a bus ticket. You gave up your part-time library job months ago, you have no savings, no property in your name, and my legal team made sure your name isn't attached to a single asset of mine. You're completely destitute. I hope this teaches you a lesson about dragging down a man of ambition."
I didn't blink. I didn't flinch. I simply looked him up and down with the detached pity one might reserve for a stray dog barking at a passing locomotive.
"You've always had a wonderful imagination, Doug," I replied, my voice calm, cool, and effortless. "Let's see how well it holds up under oath."
Doug’s smile flickered for a fraction of a second, unsettled by my lack of panic. But his corporate-backed ego quickly reasserted itself, puffing his chest out as the bailiff swung the heavy oak doors open and called out in a booming voice:
"All rise for the Honorable Judge Harrison presiding! Case number 2026-FL-8842, Carter versus Carter. Please enter and take your seats."
We filed into the courtroom. The air inside was cool, sterile, and heavy with the scent of old paper and impending doom. Doug took his seat at the petitioner's table beside his expensive lawyer, leaning over to whisper something that made his counsel chuckle softly. I took my seat at the respondent's table across the aisle, flanked only by Rachel, who sat with her hands folded neatly over a thick, cream-colored leather binder embossed with a gold corporate crest.
Judge Harrison, an older man with piercing gray eyes and a reputation for having zero tolerance for theatrical nonsense, adjusted his glasses and looked down from the bench.
"Be seated," the judge commanded, shuffling a stack of papers. "We are here for the final disposition of marital assets and dissolution of marriage between Douglas Carter and Evangeline Bennett-Carter."
Judge Harrison paused, reading the initial header on the top document. He frowned slightly, peering over his spectacles at Doug's attorney.
"Counsel, I'm reviewing the financial disclosure statements submitted by both parties. It appears the petitioner, Mr. Carter, has declared sole ownership of an eighty-two-thousand-dollar liquid asset pool—derived from a state lottery winning—while declaring zero marital property sharing, and asserting that the respondent possesses no independent income, assets, or property whatsoever."
Doug's lawyer stood up, smoothing his lapels with practiced confidence. "That is correct, Your Honor. My client wishes for a clean, immediate break. The respondent brought no capital into the marriage, maintained no career during its duration, and has zero legal claim to my client's independently acquired lottery windfall. We ask the court to finalize the dissolution and grant full ownership of all declared funds to Mr. Carter."
Judge Harrison nodded slowly, expressionless. Then, he turned his gaze across the courtroom, locking his sharp eyes directly onto me.
"And what says the respondent, Mrs. Carter? Do you contest the petitioner's financial assessment?"
I stood up slowly, smoothing the jacket of my Armani suit. "No, Your Honor," I said clearly, my voice ringing out with crystal clarity across the silent courtroom. "We do not contest his lottery winnings in the slightest. In fact, we insist that Mr. Carter keep every single penny of his eight hundred and twenty thousand dollars."
Doug let out a loud, audible sigh of relief, slumping back into his chair and shooting a triumphant grin at his lawyer. He mouthed the word idiot across the aisle toward me.
May you like
Judge Harrison raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You concede the lottery funds, Mrs. Carter? Then what, exactly, are we here to settle?"
"Well, Your Honor," I replied, turning to Rachel, who gracefully slid the thick, cream-colored leather binder across the mahogany table. "We are here to review the actual marital balance sheet, starting with my separate assets, followed by my annual operating income."
