Chapter 7 - The Deposition
Z
Three weeks later, the war moved from the hospital corridors to the cold, mahogany-paneled conference rooms of Los Angeles' highest legal district.
I was thirty-four weeks pregnant now. My belly was noticeably rounder, and despite the emotional tempest raging around me, my son was thriving. Under the care of Dr. Vance and a team of independent specialists, my blood pressure had stabilized, the toxic chemical trace in my system had been completely cleared, and I was living in a secure, private residence in Santa Barbara under the constant watch of my parents and a private security team hired by Eleanor.
Aaron had been arrested at his high-end medical clinic in broad daylight, surrounded by news reporters and horrified staff. However, his legal team had managed to post a staggering five-million-dollar bail, securing his release under house arrest with an ankle monitor pending trial. He was stripped of his medical license and suspended from all hospital operations, but he remained a free man inside his sprawling suburban mansion—the very mansion where he had held me prisoner for two years.
Today was the emergency deposition for our divorce and custody proceedings.
I sat at a long glass conference table on the forty-second floor of Eleanor Vance's law firm. Beside me sat Eleanor and my father. Across the table sat Arthur Vance, looking decidedly less confident than he had on television three weeks ago, flanked by two junior associates.
And sitting directly across from me was Aaron.
He looked thinner, his hair slightly disheveled despite his sharp navy suit. The ankle monitor was hidden beneath his trousers, but the faint red light blinked through the fabric. When our eyes met, he didn't look angry or repentant; he looked at me with a cold, terrifying condescension, as if I were still his obedient patient who had simply forgotten her place.
"Good morning, Anna," Aaron said, his voice smooth and unsettlingly calm. "You're looking remarkably well. The bed rest seems to have helped with your stress levels."
"Do not speak to my client directly, Dr. Mitchell," Eleanor barked, slamming a thick binder onto the table. "Save your charming bedside manner for the grand jury."
"Let's begin," Arthur Vance said, clearing his throat. "We are here today to depose Dr. Aaron Mitchell regarding the petition for dissolution of marriage and temporary child custody. I remind all parties that this proceeding is under strict court seal."
The court reporter nodded and began typing rapidly on her machine.
Eleanor leaned forward, fixing Aaron with an icy gaze. "Dr. Mitchell, did you or did you not construct a custom silastic cervical ring containing Methergine and Lorazepam and insert it into your wife's body without her knowledge or consent on September 12th?"
Aaron smirked slightly, turning to the court reporter before answering. "On advice of counsel, I invoke my Fifth Amendment privilege against self-incrimination regarding any medical procedures performed."
"Fifth Amendment," Eleanor noted coolly. "Let the record reflect that the respondent refuses to answer. Let's move to financial matters, Dr. Mitchell. On August 4th, did you transfer four hundred thousand dollars from your wife's trust account into an offshore entity registered in the Cayman Islands under the name 'Aegis Medical Holdings'?"
Arthur Vance interjected quickly. "Objection as to form and relevance—"
"It is entirely relevant to the fraudulent financial motivation behind his physical abuse," Eleanor snapped. "Answer the question, Dr. Mitchell."
Aaron leaned back in his leather chair, crossing his arms. "That transfer was an investment allocation made pursuant to the power of attorney Anna signed shortly after our wedding."
"A power of attorney she signed while heavily sedated on Lorazepam prescribed by your colleague, Dr. Hayes?" Eleanor countered, pulling a document from her binder and sliding it across the table. "A power of attorney that has now been formally invalidated by the Superior Court as a product of coercion and fraud?"
Aaron's eyes narrowed into slits. For a fraction of a second, the suave, controlled facade cracked, revealing the ugly, vicious arrogance underneath.
"Anna wouldn't even know how to manage a bank account without me!" Aaron spat out, his voice dropping into a harsh, venomous hiss, abandoning his lawyer's polite warnings. "She was weak! She was hysterical, fragile, and completely ungrounded until I took over her life! I made her into a proper doctor's wife! Everything I did, I did to protect her from her own inadequacy!"
The conference room fell dead silent. Arthur Vance closed his eyes in sheer agony, realizing his client had just blown his own defense wide open on the record.
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I didn't flinch. I didn't cry. I didn't look away. I sat tall, looking straight into the eyes of the man who had terrorized me for years, and felt... nothing. No fear. No reverence. No weakness. Only profound pity for a small, pathetic narcissist whose illusion of total control had completely shattered.
"Thank you, Dr. Mitchell," Eleanor said calmly, a triumphant smile touching her lips as she looked at the court reporter. "I believe you have answered every question regarding your state of mind with absolute clarity."
