Chapter 8 - Deposition Under Fire
Z
The conference room on the forty-second floor of the law firm Kirkland & Ellis was an arena designed for legal slaughter. Outside, the Chicago skyline was sharp and clear under the late-autumn sun, but inside, the atmosphere was freezing. Grant Hale sat on the opposite side of the long glass table, flanked by two high-priced defense attorneys who looked like corporate sharks smelling blood in the water.
Grant was out on a five-million-dollar bail, secured by his mother’s mortgaged home and the last remnants of his personal assets. He wore a dark navy suit that hung loose on his frame, his face drawn, his jaw tense, his eyes refusing to meet mine.
Across from him sat Daniel Kim, Lena Ortiz, and me. A certified court videographer adjusted his camera at the end of the table, while the court reporter’s fingers hovered over her stenotype machine.
“This is the deposition of Grant Hale in the matter of Hale v. Hale, Circuit Court of Cook County, Domestic Relations Division, consolidated with Northstar Medical Systems v. Hale et al.,” Daniel Kim stated for the record, his voice crisp and lethal. “Counsel, you may proceed.”
Grant’s lead attorney, a ruthless litigator named Richard Vance—Julian Vance’s second cousin—leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Let the record reflect that Mr. Hale is appearing voluntarily, and we maintain that all financial transfers executed during his tenure as CEO were fully within his discretionary executive authority as granted under the 2018 corporate charter.”
“We’ll let the federal grand jury determine the legality of his executive authority,” Daniel Kim replied smoothly. “Today, we are establishing the division of marital assets and verifying the total sum of diverted corporate funds subject to full civil restitution.”
Daniel turned his gaze to Grant. “Mr. Hale, under oath: did you, on August 14th of this year, execute an electronic wire transfer of $850,000 from Northstar’s secondary operating account to an offshore entity known as Mariposa Holdings LLC?”
Grant cleared his throat, his hands trembling slightly as he adjusted his cuffs. “On the advice of counsel, I invoke my Fifth Amendment privilege against self-incrimination.”
“Let the record show the witness refuses to answer,” Daniel said without missing a beat. “Mr. Hale, did you authorize the payment of forty-five thousand dollars for private maternity suite accommodations and neonatal care at St. Catherine’s Hospital under the guise of an executive wellness retention benefit?”
“Fifth Amendment,” Grant muttered, staring down at his legal pad.
“Did you, on multiple occasions between January 2022 and September of this year, utilize Northstar corporate aircraft to transport Ms. Melissa Crane to luxury resorts in Aspen, Miami, and St. Barts for personal vacations while misrepresenting those trips on corporate logs as client development meetings?”
“Fifth Amendment,” Grant repeated, his voice barely audible.
Richard Vance interrupted, his tone dripping with condescension. “Mr. Kim, this is an obvious fishing expedition designed to harass my client. Mrs. Hale entered this marriage with substantial premarital assets protected by a trust, but Mr. Hale contributed six years of executive labor that quadrupled the value of Northstar’s market capitalization. Under Illinois equitable distribution laws, my client is entitled to fifty percent of the marital appreciation of those assets, regardless of personal marital indiscretions!”
I raised my hand, silencing Daniel before he could respond. I looked directly across the table at Grant, leaning forward until our eyes met for the first time since that rainy night in Lake Forest.
“Grant,” I said, my voice quiet, steady, and terrifyingly clear. “Do you want to talk about marital appreciation?”
Richard Vance scoffed. “Mrs. Hale, please direct your comments through counsel—”
“Be quiet, Richard,” I said without shifting my gaze. “Your client is facing fourteen federal felony counts. If he thinks he is leaving this marriage with a single dollar of my father’s trust, he is even more delusional than when he chased my plane.”
I opened a black binder sitting in front of me and turned it toward Grant.
“This is the forensic report completed by the SEC yesterday afternoon,” I continued. “It details how you personally shorted Northstar stock through a nominee account in Zurich prior to announcing the Apex acquisition. Under Section 14-B of our prenuptial agreement—the exact clause your own lawyers insisted on including six years ago—any spouse who engages in illegal financial misconduct that materially damages the family trust forfeits all claims to marital property, spousal support, and legal fee indemnification.”
Grant’s face turned an ashen shade of gray. He looked at his lawyer, but Richard Vance was frantically reading the highlighted clause on the page, his confident smirk completely evaporating.
“You signed that agreement in this very building, Grant,” I said softly. “You thought it would protect you if I ever decided to leave you. Instead, it is the exact document that will leave you with nothing.”
Grant gripped the edge of the glass table, his voice cracking with sheer, unfiltered panic. “Olivia… please. You can’t take everything. My legal bills are over a million dollars. If you enforce that clause, I’ll be bankrupt before the criminal trial even begins!”
“You should have considered your legal bills before you forged my name on consulting invoices,” I said, closing the binder.
I stood up, signaling to Daniel and Lena that our work in this room was finished.
May you like
“The settlement offer on the table is final, Grant,” I said, looking down at him one last time. “You surrender all claims to Northstar equity, you return every piece of art and jewelry purchased with corporate funds, and you sign the uncontested divorce decree today. If you refuse, we proceed to trial on Monday morning, and Daniel will ensure that the forensic audit is entered into the public court record for the federal prosecutors to use as Exhibit A.”
Grant stared at the settlement document in front of him. With trembling fingers, he picked up his pen, realizing that the game had finally reached its absolute, inescapable checkmate.
