Chapter 3 - The Smear Campaign
The initial victory in Mr. Vance’s office provided only a temporary reprieve. Victoria Sterling was not a woman who accepted defeat quietly. Having built her social standing on a carefully curated image of old-money elegance and high-society philanthropy, the threat of public exposure turned her into a cornered predator.
By Monday morning, the retributive machinery of the Sterling family had swung into action.
Clara awoke at her parents' house to the buzzing of her phone. Notifications flooded her screen. A prominent local tabloid blog, heavily funded by anonymous corporate sponsors linked to Victoria’s network, had published an explosive front-page article: “Local Philanthropist’s Son Victim of Unhinged Gold-Digger: The Downfall of Clara Sterling.”
The article contained distorted narratives, selective context, and outright lies. It painted Clara as an unstable, financially irresponsible woman who had married Dominic purely for his wealth, had suffered a public mental breakdown at L’Etoile, and was now attempting to extort the Sterling family for millions using fabricated claims.
Attached to the article was a cropped, low-quality screenshot of Clara at the restaurant—showing her covered in dressing, looking disheveled and furious, while completely omitting the video frames of Dominic’s kick beneath the table.
"They're painting you as insane, sweetheart," Clara's mother said softly, placing a mug of tea beside her at the kitchen table. Her mother's eyes were red-rimmed with worry. "The neighbors have been calling. Someone even dropped a trash bag on our driveway this morning."
"It’s Victoria," Clara said, her voice trembling slightly, though her eyes remained hard. "She wants to ruin my reputation before the court hearing so no one will believe my testimony. She’s trying to isolate me again."
"Not this time," her father declared sternly, walking into the kitchen with his coat on. "I spoke with the private security firm this morning. We’re installing cameras around the perimeter of the house. Dominic and his mother think money buys immunity, but they forget that truth doesn't cost a dime."
At noon, Clara arrived at Vance’s office for an emergency strategy session. Vance looked unfazed, though his desk was littered with printouts of the tabloid articles.
"Classic intimidation tactics," Vance remarked, tossing the tabloid paper into the recycle bin. "Victoria Sterling is panicking because she knows the financial audit connects her directly to the shell company, Vanguard Holdings. She’s trying to create a public court of opinion before we hit the real courtroom."
"It’s working on some level, Marcus," Clara admitted, taking a seat. "I received three calls from my former clients today canceling their interior design consultation contracts with me. Victoria called the heads of those firms personally. She’s suffocating my ability to earn a living."
"Then we strike back where it hurts them most," Vance replied, pulling up a document on his computer. "Victoria’s prized asset isn't just her money—it’s her seat on the board of the Metropolitan Children's Foundation. They are hosting their annual black-tie charity gala this Friday night. Victoria is scheduled to receive the 'Humanitarian of the Year' award."
Clara looked at her lawyer, catching the faint hint of a sharp smile on his lips. "What are you suggesting?"
"We filed the formal divorce petition and civil fraud lawsuit this morning," Vance explained. "Under law, process servers must deliver the formal court summons directly to the defendants. Victoria and Dominic have been dodging our process servers all weekend, hiding behind their gated estate guards."
Vance slid an official court envelope across the desk toward Clara.
"Process servers aren't allowed past the gates of their estate. But the Metropolitan Children's Foundation Gala is a public event with media coverage, open to any ticket holder. I happen to have two VIP table passes courtesy of a partner at my firm."
Clara stared at the gold-embossed gala invitation. A surge of nervousness rippled through her, but beneath it lay a burning fire of quiet defiance.
"You want me to serve them myself?" Clara asked.
"No, a professional process server will hand them the legal papers," Vance corrected. "But I want you standing right beside him. I want the board members, the high-society donors, and the news cameras to see the woman Dominic humiliated and Victoria robbed—standing tall, undaunted, and serving them with a lawsuit that will tear down their empire."
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Clara touched the edge of the crisp white envelope. For six years, she had hidden in the shadows of Dominic’s rage and Victoria’s quiet disdain. Going to that gala meant stepping directly into the lion's den.
"I'll do it," Clara said firmly. "I'm done hiding."
