Chapter 4

She paraded bank executives, cyber-security experts, and forensic accountants to the stand. They detailed the labyrinth of offshore accounts, the blatant forgery of my signature, the panicked, deleted text messages, and the massive wire transfers to the corrupt psychiatrist.

Then came the killing blow. The prosecution called Daniel’s mistress to the stand. Under oath, the terrified young woman tearfully admitted that Daniel had bragged to her about his master plan: he was going to have me legally declared mentally incompetent, forcefully commit me to a long-term psychiatric institution, and seize total control of my family’s empire.

Desperate, Daniel’s defense attorney practically sprinted toward the witness stand during my cross-examination. He slammed his hands down on the podium, his face red.

“Mrs. Mercer,” he barked, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “You secretly installed hidden cameras. You drafted fake legal documents. You spent months secretly contacting federal investigators behind your husband’s back. You weren’t a terrified victim. You were a calculating woman planning a vicious revenge, weren’t you?”

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I didn’t flinch. I slowly turned my gaze from the red-faced attorney and locked eyes with Daniel, who was shrinking into his chair at the defense table.

“I was not planning revenge, Counselor,” I stated, my voice echoing with icy clarity. “I was meticulously planning my survival.”