Chapter 6 - The Freezing OrderDominic fell to his hands and knees on the cold cathedral floor.
"Mr. Vale... please," Dominic choked out, his hands trembling against the polished marble. "There’s been a mistake. Elena... baby, tell him! I loved you! I was misled! Jessica forced me into the Cayman accounts!"
On the floor beside the casket, Jessica’s head snapped toward him, her face twisting into a hideous sneer. "You spineless coward! You begged me to find a broker to move the money! You said you couldn't stand looking at your wife's boring face for another day!"
"Silence!" Charles Vale’s voice echoed like a crack of thunder off the cathedral walls.
My father’s chief counsel, Arthur Sterling, stepped forward and clicked open his polished leather briefcase. He pulled out a stack of court-stamped documents, handing the top copy directly to the two senior federal marshals who had entered alongside my father’s security detail.
"As of 8:00 AM this morning," Sterling announced to the room, "the United States District Court for the Northern District of Illinois issued an emergency asset freezing order and writ of attachment against Dominic DeLuca and Jessica Mercer."
Sterling turned to face Dominic, his expression as cold as a tax audit.
"Every personal bank account, investment portfolio, real estate title, luxury vehicle registration, and credit line under your name has been seized by Vale Global Holdings to satisfy the two hundred and forty million dollar embezzlement liability," Sterling continued smoothly. "Your corporate credentials at DeLuca Shipping have been revoked. Your personal access card to the DeLuca penthouse on Lake Shore Drive was deactivated thirty minutes ago."
Dominic scrambled toward me on his knees, reaching out to grab the hem of my dress. "Elena! Please! We’re still married! You can't throw me out onto the street! Half of what you have is marital property!"
I stepped back, allowing my father's lead guard to step between us.
"We signed a prenuptial agreement five years ago, Dominic," I said softly, looking down at him with genuine pity. "Your mother insisted on it because she thought I was a gold-digger. She drafted a clause stating that if either party engaged in proven infidelity or financial fraud against the family, they forfeited all rights to marital property and owed full restitution."
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Dominic’s jaw slackened as the memory of that document—the very document his family had forced me to sign in a lawyer's office five years ago—came crashing back to destroy him.
"You didn't read the fine print, Dominic," I whispered. "My father's attorneys wrote that clause for me before I signed it."
