The bailiff’s voice on the line was flat, almost bored.
“A settlement agreement does not cancel liability for misuse of funds. Your appearance in court is mandatory.”
Ryan stared at the screen for a second, then hurled the phone onto the passenger seat. His pulse hammered in his temples. He immediately dialed his mother.
“Mom, she’s suing me,” he said without greeting. “She wants every loan repaid. Claims I spent the money myself.”
Linda exhaled so sharply he could hear it through the speaker.
“That’s absurd. She can’t afford lawyers. She’s just an accountant—what can she possibly do?”
“She can do plenty,” Ryan shot back, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened. “She’s got evidence. Bank transfers. Photos. Everything.”
“Then pressure her,” Linda insisted. “Tell her she knew about the expenses. That it was all for the household. Shared spending.”
“We can’t,” he muttered. “She planned this out. Every step.”
The next morning, Linda called Emily. Her tone was tight, strained, though the familiar arrogance still lingered beneath it.
“Emily, it’s me. We need to talk. You have no idea what you’re doing. Ryan is my son, and I won’t stand by while you try to destroy him.”
Emily calmly switched on the speakerphone and glanced at Sarah, who sat across from her desk. Sarah silently pulled out a voice recorder and pressed a button.
“I’m listening, Linda,” Emily said evenly. “And I’m recording this conversation.”
There was a brief pause—just a heartbeat—but Linda pushed forward.
“So you think you’re clever? You believe you can intimidate us? We’ll find a way to shut you down. Just like we shut your father down.”
A faint smile touched Emily’s lips.
“You mean when he was blackmailed with fabricated tax accusations?” she replied. “I have his letter. He explained everything. Would you like me to forward it to the police along with this recording?”
Silence flooded the line. Then a short, abrupt beep.
Sarah turned off the recorder and looked at her friend.
“She won’t be calling again.”
“I know,” Emily answered quietly.
Jessica learned about the lawsuit from Ryan himself. He showed up at her apartment one evening, a bottle of cheap vodka dangling from his hand.
“I’m going to have to sell it all,” he said hoarsely. “The condo. The SUV. The court’s already frozen my assets. Emily’s going to win—I can feel it.”
Jessica stood by the window, her back to him, arms folded. She didn’t turn around.
“Ryan, I’m not discussing this,” she said coldly. “You told me you were financially secure. That the condo was yours. That we’d live comfortably. And now you’re bankrupt.”
He stepped toward her, reaching out, but she moved away.
“Don’t,” she said sharply. “I need a man who provides stability, not someone who spends his life in courtrooms. Just leave, Ryan.”
He remained in the center of the living room, stunned by how quickly everything was collapsing. Jessica walked to the door and pulled it open.
“Go. And don’t call me again.”
The trial dragged on for two months. Ryan repeated the same defense over and over—that the money had been for family needs, that Emily had known about the loans. But he had nothing to prove it. Emily, on the other hand, presented detailed bank statements, photographs, and witness testimony.
When the decision finally came, the judge—a weary older woman with tired eyes—delivered it without flourish.
“The court orders Ryan to repay the full outstanding amount. All property shall remain under seizure until the debt is satisfied.”
Ryan clutched the edge of the table as though the ground had tilted beneath him. Linda turned pale and covered her mouth with trembling fingers.
A week later, the situation worsened. Police opened a criminal investigation for fraud: Ryan had forged Emily’s signature on several loan agreements. Handwriting experts confirmed it. The sentence was four years of probation. His belongings were inventoried and confiscated. The authorities took the keys to his condo and his vehicle.
That was his so-called “divorce of the century”—losing not only his marriage, but control over his own life and every asset he had claimed as his.
Within a month, Linda moved out of her apartment and went to stay with her sister in a small town outside the city. The welcome she received was anything but warm.
“You’ll live here quietly,” her sister said flatly. “No drama. No complaints. Understood?”