Chapter 7 - The Deposition War
Z
The conference room on the forty-fifth floor of Vance & Sterling’s downtown office was lined with glass windows overlooking the smoggy Los Angeles skyline. In the center of the room sat a massive mahogany table, equipped with microphones, legal pads, and a court reporter sitting quietly behind a stenotype machine.
Today was Ethan’s court-ordered deposition.
I sat on the left side of the table next to Arthur. I wore a crisp charcoal-gray suit, my posture straight, my expression unreadable. Across from us sat Ethan and his primary legal counsel—a high-priced, aggressive defense attorney named Richard Vance (no relation), who looked visibly stressed.
Ethan looked terrible. The confident, golden-boy swagger he had worn for years had completely evaporated. Dark bags hung under his bloodshot eyes, his suit looked slightly unpressed, and his hands trembled slightly as he poured himself a glass of ice water. The suspension from his firm and the freeze on his assets had clearly shattered his sense of invincibility.
"We are on the record," Arthur announced, nodding to the court reporter. "This is the deposition of Ethan Montgomery in the matter of Vance v. Montgomery. Present are the petitioner, Kyra Vance, her counsel Arthur Vance, the respondent, Ethan Montgomery, and his counsel, Richard Sterling."
Arthur didn't waste time with pleasantries. He opened a thick manila folder and leaned forward.
"Mr. Montgomery, under penalty of perjury, please state your current employment status."
Ethan swallowed hard, shooting a glance at his lawyer. "I am... currently on administrative leave from Montgomery & Associates."
"And why are you on administrative leave?" Arthur pressed.
"Internal corporate review," Ethan muttered.
"Is that internal review related to your unauthorized use of corporate funds to purchase luxury goods, hotel stays, and travel tickets for a junior associate named Chloe Vance?"
"Objection! Relevance!" Ethan’s lawyer snapped.
"It goes directly to marital asset dissipation, breach of fiduciary duty, and character credibility regarding custody," Arthur shot back smoothly. "Answer the question, Mr. Montgomery."
Ethan gripped his water glass so hard his knuckles turned white. "It was... a business expense that was miscategorized."
"A miscategorized business expense?" Arthur smiled thinly. "So a two-week oceanfront villa in Cabo San Lucas, booked for you and Miss Vance during the exact week your wife was six weeks postpartum with triplets, was a business expense?"
Ethan’s jaw worked silently. "I was exhausted. I needed a break."
"You needed a break," Arthur repeated, letting the words hang heavily in the silent room. "While your wife was recovering from major abdominal surgery, caring for three newborn infants twenty-four hours a day, you felt entitled to a luxury beach vacation with your twenty-six-year-old lover?"
"It wasn't like that!" Ethan suddenly burst out, slamming his hand on the table. "Kyra was completely obsessed with those babies! She didn't care about me anymore! She didn't look at me, she didn't talk to me, she turned our house into a medical facility! I felt completely pushed out of my own life!"
I leaned forward slowly, resting my forearms on the glossy table. I didn't wait for Arthur to speak. I looked Ethan dead in the eye.
"You felt pushed out, Ethan?" I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm. "You felt pushed out because three five-pound human beings needed to be fed every two hours so they wouldn't die?"
"Kyra, don't—" Ethan’s lawyer tried to interrupt, but Arthur raised a hand to silence him.
"You sat in the guest room and played video games while I bled through my bandages," I continued, holding Ethan’s panicked gaze. "You called me 'hormonal' when I asked you to hold your own daughter for ten minutes. You booked a beach trip and hired a mistress while I sat in the dark holding three crying infants, wondering if I was going to faint from exhaustion. And then you called Children’s Services to try and take them away from me."
Ethan flinched as if I had struck him across the face. The court reporter’s fingers flew across the stenotype keys, recording every word.
"I... I didn't call DCFS," Ethan stammered, his voice losing its venom, replaced by pathetic panic. "That was... my mother did that."
"Your mother filed a false report using details only you could have provided her," Arthur cut in sharply. "Which constitutes conspiracy to commit official misconduct and fraud. And we have already filed that transcript with the family court judge."
Arthur pulled out a second document—a thick financial ledger—and slid it across the table toward Ethan’s lawyer.
"This is our final settlement demand," Arthur stated cleanly. "Full physical and legal custody of Tara, Timothy, and Tessa to Kyra. Supervised visitation for Ethan, contingent upon his completion of a court-mandated parenting course and a psychological evaluation. The full retention of the marital home by Kyra. Spousal support, maximum statutory child support, and immediate repayment of the sixty-five thousand dollars in dissipated marital assets."
Ethan’s lawyer scanned the document, his face darkening. "This is completely unreasonable! You’re asking for ninety percent of the marital estate!"
"We’re asking for what is legally owed to a mother of triplets who was abandoned, defrauded, and malicious attacked," Arthur replied without a shred of hesitation. "If you refuse to sign this settlement by 5:00 PM tomorrow, we go to trial on Monday morning. And on Monday morning, I will call Chloe Vance to the stand, followed by Ethan’s Managing Partners, followed by the DCFS investigators."
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Ethan looked at his lawyer, his eyes wide with terror. "Richard... can they do that?"
Richard Sterling let out a tired sigh, closed his briefcase, and looked at Ethan with utter defeat. "Ethan... sign the paper. If we go to trial, you will lose everything you have left."
