Chapter 3 - The Trojan Horse
December 23rd. The day before the hearing.
Jillian sat in a rented sedan down the street from her own house. The windows were heavily tinted. Through the rain, she watched caterers carrying trays of food into her home. Mark and Vivian were throwing a holiday party. They were celebrating early.
Inside, Mark was likely playing the role of the brave, tragic single father, accepting the sympathies of their wealthy neighbors.
While they drank champagne, Jillian’s NSA contact, a man named Miller, sat in the passenger seat of the sedan, typing furiously on a dual-screen setup.
“I’m in his offshore accounts, boss,” Miller said, adjusting his glasses. “Mark hasn’t just been plotting for the trust fund. He’s been actively embezzling from your personal business accounts for the last nine months to pay Vivian’s gambling debts.”
“Download everything,” Jillian commanded. “Trace every wire transfer. I want the receipts.”
“You got it. Also... I intercepted an email Mark sent to Child Protective Services. He paid off a private, un-vetted psychologist to write a fake evaluation of Leo, claiming the boy is terrified of you.”
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Jillian’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. Every instinct told her to kick down the front door of that house and drag Mark out by his throat. But she forced herself to breathe. Tactical patience. The trap needed to snap shut in a public courtroom, where Mark couldn't manipulate the narrative.
“Enjoy your party, Mark,” Jillian whispered into the cold car. “It’s your last one as a free man.”
