Chapter 7 - The Collapse of the Sullivans
By 4:00 PM that afternoon, the courthouse steps were still surrounded by the press, but the narrative had completely flipped. The headlines that had previously decried "Potter Family Harassment" were replaced by a single, shattering phrase that dominated the evening news cycle: The Billionaire Widow’s Trap.
I sat in the quiet conference room behind Courtroom 302, a cold compress pressed against the small of my back to relieve the pressure of my eighth month of pregnancy. My father stood by the window, a cup of black coffee in his hand, watching the city cruisers block the exit to the underground garage where Jason and Chelsea were currently being processed by federal marshals.
The preliminary motions had ended in an absolute rout. Judge Vance had denied bail for Chelsea Vance, citing her as a severe flight risk given the offshore funds, and had ordered Jason Sullivan’s passport revoked pending the completion of the federal grand jury investigation. The brownstone house was placed under an immediate, exclusive occupancy order in my name, with the Sullivan family trusts barred from touching a single asset associated with Aurelia Capital.
The door to the conference room opened, and Rebecca Stone walked in, her trench coat thrown over her arm, her expression filled with a quiet, fierce satisfaction.
"Pendelton just resigned as their counsel," Rebecca said, tossing a signed withdrawal form onto the table. "He realized within ten minutes of the financial disclosure that if he stayed on the case, the federal investigators would start looking into the reputation management fees he accepted from the Sullivan corporate accounts. He’s running for cover."
"And Jason?" I asked, my voice quiet. Despite everything—despite the theft, the lies, the total betrayal—there was still a small, hollow ache in my chest for the man I thought I had married three years ago in that sunny garden in Savannah.
"His father, Patrick Sullivan, refused to sign the secondary corporate bond for him," Rebecca said, sitting down opposite me. "The Sullivan family is a pack of wolves, Olivia. The moment they realized Jason’s actions had compromised their own assets with Aurelia Capital, they cut him loose. He’s currently sitting in the basement holding cell with a public defender, trying to negotiate a plea deal to testify against Chelsea."
"He’s going to give her up to save himself," my father said from the window, his voice cold. "Just like he tried to give you up to save his lifestyle."
"Let him testify," I said, my hand dropping to my stomach. For the first time all day, the heavy, restless kicking inside me had settled into a gentle, rhythmic movement. My daughter was calm. She knew the storm had passed the perimeter. "He can tell the feds everything she did with the Delaware accounts. But I want the car seat added to the federal restitution order."
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Rebecca blinked, a small smile breaking through her sharp face. "The car seat?"
"Yes," I said, looking out the window at the grey city skyline. "She wanted my daughter to receive the message that she didn't belong in this world. I want her to pay for that specific piece of plastic with every single dollar she has left in her name."
