Lucy took a deep breath. "This is an investment! It's for a better future for us!"

She suddenly smiled, her voice turning gentle. "Tell you what. You sign the papers, and I'll call the agent right away and rent the place your mom likes. I'm not just renting it. I'll pay three years upfront.

"I'll get her the latest high-end smart massage chair, too, plus another 100,000 dollars in spending money. How does that sound?"

She was trying to use 800 dollars in rent to get me to sign a guarantee that could bankrupt us.

What did she take me for? A dog she could buy off with a bone?

I laughed in anger and pushed the agreement back toward her. "Lucy, do you know what kind of work I'm best at?"

She stalled.

I looked straight into her eyes. "Corporate bankruptcy liquidation. I've seen too many investors like you—people who got carried away and ended up losing everything. Even the clothes on their backs."

Lucy's face turned hard and gray in an instant. "Caleb Hatcher, don't be so ungrateful! I'm trying to help you jump classes!"

Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, then smirked.

"Your uncle just called me. I declined it. Probably chasing me about your mom's rental. Think it over. I'm not going to wait forever."

Lucy had barely finished speaking when my phone buzzed. It was a photo from Uncle Gary.

In the picture, Mom sat alone in the stairwell of the old building. Her head was lowered, her back slumped, the whole scene bleak and quiet.

There was a line of text underneath.

"Caleb, your mom's bad knee is acting up again. She's in so much pain she can't make it downstairs. You make millions a year, yet you won't even rent her a place with an elevator. It's embarrassing for the family…"

My chest tightened so hard that I couldn't catch my breath.

…

At 2:00 am, I lay there listening to Lucy's steady breathing beside me. I couldn't sleep.

She was right next to me, but it felt like we were worlds apart.

I slipped into the study.

Her laptop was still on, an encrypted folder sitting open on the screen. I tried our wedding anniversary, her birthday, and her mother's birthday. None of them worked.

On a whim, I typed in the date I signed the "Family Asset Management Agreement".

With a click, the folder opened. Inside was a packet titled "Formal Complaint Materials", prepared for submission to the bar association.

"Complainant: Lucy Glaser.

"Respondent: Caleb Hatcher."

Lucy had taken several of the toughest cases from my career and ripped them out of context, twisting them into alleged major professional misconduct.

She had also attached several audio and video clips as evidence.

One clip showed me breaking down at home after losing a case, shouting in frustration. She framed it as emotional instability and proof that I lacked professional competence.

Another clip came from a moment when I vented to her about a client's unreasonable demands. She cut it to paint me as someone who held clients in contempt and lacked professional ethics.

What made it truly lethal was a hidden clause Lucy cited from the "Family Asset Management Agreement".

"If either party—for reasons attributable to that party alone—has its professional license revoked or suspended, the other party shall automatically obtain sole and exclusive authority over the family trust fund in order to avoid joint risk to family assets."

She was trying to ruin my career, get my law license revoked, and then legally take everything we owned!

A chill shot up my spine. I forced myself to calm down. My instincts as a lawyer took over.

I took a deep breath, encrypted and bundled all the files, uploaded them to my private cloud, then wiped every trace of activity from the computer.

Just as I closed the laptop, the study door opened.

Lucy stood there in her robe, leaning against the doorframe. She asked lazily, "What are you looking for? You woke me up."

My heart skipped a beat, but my face stayed calm.

I pointed at the computer. "I suddenly remembered a case I have in court tomorrow. There was a detail in the evidence I wanted to double-check."

Lucy watched me for a few seconds, then gave a quiet laugh. "You workaholic. Do you even know what time it is? The electricity bill is going to blow past the limit again this quarter."

She turned and walked away after saying that

I stayed where I was, chilled to the bone.

If she wanted to use the law as a weapon, then I would use what I knew best and settle this myself.

…

"Ms. Sweeney, I wanted to hire you to investigate my wife, Lucy Glaser."

Teresa Sweeney leaned back in her chair and flicked her eyes up at me. "Investigate what?"

"Everything—her financial transactions, her social circle, her call records. And her friend Jean Zeller, the founder of a renewable-energy company."

Ms. Sweeney raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Hatcher, that kind of work doesn't come cheap."

I slid a card across the table. "The PIN is six eights. If it's not enough, say the word."

She didn't take it. She just smiled. "I don't take cases for money. I take them based on mood. Give me a reason to say yes."

I met her gaze. "She used the money I earned to set a legal trap for me. She wants to use the weapon I know best to end my career and leave me with nothing. I want you to help me switch the roles. Make the hunter the hunted."

The smile disappeared from Ms. Sweeney's face. "That's interesting."

She picked up the card on the table and rolled it once between her fingers. "Three days. I'll give you a report you'll be satisfied with."

I went back to the firm and called my legal assistant, Alex Ballard.

"Alex, draft a complaint for me. The cause of action is rescission of the 'Family Asset Management Agreement.' The defendant is Lucy Glaser."

Alex froze on the other end of the line. "Mr. Hatcher, are you sure?"

"Do exactly as I said. And set up an appointment with the firm's chief notary. I need to have my will notarized, and I want to notarize an advance designation of guardian."

In the will, I would specify that if anything happened to me, all of my personal assets would be donated to the nursing home on Mom's street. Of course, this was after setting aside a support trust for her.

In the advance guardianship designation, I would specify that if I ever lost legal capacity, my guardian would be my best friend, Evan.

Lucy wanted me to lose everything? I wasn't about to let her have her way.

That afternoon, her call came through. The anger in her voice was barely contained.

"Caleb, what the hell are you doing? You actually sued me?"

I replied calmly, "As a lawyer, when my rights are violated, I trust the law to give me a fair judgment."

"You've lost your mind! Do you have any idea that this will freeze all our assets? What about my renewable-energy project?"

"That's your project. Not ours."

Lucy screamed into the phone. "Caleb Hatcher! You'll regret this! I have a hundred ways to make you withdraw the suit before we ever get to court!"

I hung up and stared out at the traffic streaming past the window.

She wanted me out with nothing, huh? Then I'd watch her get burned by her own scheme.

We could take our time.

…

Lucy's retaliation came faster than I expected.

The next day, an anonymous post was pinned to the top of the firm's internal network.

"Breaking: Senior Partner at Elite Law Firm Suspected of Severe Bipolar Disorder, Repeatedly Threatened Suicide!"

The post detailed a string of my supposed emotional breakdowns, complete with several blurred photos that were still clearly recognizable as me.

They were the same ones I'd seen on Lucy's computer.

At the end, the poster asked with feigned concern, "How can a lawyer in such an unstable mental state be trusted with clients' massive assets?"

The post set off an uproar.

The firm's managing partner, Dustin Lambert, called me into his office right away. His expression was grim.

"Caleb, what is all this about?" Mr. Lambert asked.

I handed him the report I'd already prepared, which was a complete psychological evaluation from one of the city's top hospitals.

"Mr. Lambert, this is a comprehensive assessment I completed last week. The results show I'm in excellent mental health."

He flipped through the pages, but his expression didn't soften. "Even so, the impact of that post is serious. Clients are talking. Two major accounts have already asked to switch lead counsel."

Of course, I knew.

That was Lucy's real objective. She wanted to ruin my career, cut off my income, and turn me into someone who could only cling to her to survive.

I walked out of Mr. Lambert's office. In the hallway, my colleagues watched me with openly curious looks.

I went back to my office, closed the door, and called Evan.

"Evan, I need a favor. Pull all the call records between Lucy and that childhood friend of hers who runs a psychiatric hospital. I need everything from the past five years."

Evan laughed on the other end. "Oh? So you're finally hitting back?"

"She went after my livelihood. I have to return the favor."

That afternoon, Ms. Sweeney called. There was a hint of excitement in her voice.

"Mr. Hatcher, your 'asset-allocation mastermind' of a wife is a real gem."

"Get to the point."

"First, the founder of the renewable-energy company, Jean, was involved in an illegal fundraising case three years ago. Lucy was her defense attorney and helped her get a reduced sentence.

"In return, once Jean got out, she agreed to work with Lucy to set up a scheme, pull in more investors, and split the money."

I let out a humorless laugh. "Two of a kind."

Ms. Sweeney went on. "Exactly. Second, and this is the most interesting part. Over the past three years, Lucy funneled a total of 37 million dollars from your family fund through an SPV she registered in the Reindell Islands, all under the guise of overseas asset allocation.

"On paper, the money was invested in an art fund based in Palomara. In reality, the fund's only assets were a few limited-edition vintage supercars parked in a garage under her father's name, along with anonymous ownership of a private winery in Valeroux.

"On the books, the investment showed heavy losses due to market volatility. In fact, the money had simply changed form and ended up as private assets in her family's hands."

I felt my heart sink.

Ms. Sweeney continued, "She pushed you to guarantee Jean's new project because she'd already drained the books moving assets around. She needed fresh money to fill the old gaps and, at the same time, pull you down with her."

She clicked her tongue on the other end of the line. "She's using your own money to dig a hole for you, then making you grateful for it. Mr. Hatcher, Lucy is a damn genius at financial fraud."

I ended the call and stared out at the sky as it slowly darkened.

37 million dollars.

I'd earned that money the hard way, grinding through one case after another. Every dollar was blood and sweat. She took it, casually laundered it, and made it hers.

And yet she wouldn't even spend 800 dollars on Mom's rent.

I picked up my phone and called Mom.

"Mom, don't stay in that old building anymore. I bought you a new place downtown. It has an elevator. It's fully renovated, so you can move right in. I'll come get you tomorrow."

On the other end, her voice wavered with surprise and unease. "Caleb, t-this must cost a fortune. Did you talk to Lucy about it?"

"Mom, this is from me. It has nothing to do with anyone else."

After I hung up, I sent Ms. Sweeney a message.

"Put all the evidence into the most airtight legal opinion you can. I want Lucy ruined in court."