Chapter 9
Diane Bennett was not a woman who surrendered easily. Driven into a corner by the sudden freezing of her assets, she reverted to the dirty tactics that had kept her in power for decades.
That evening, the bright, airy colors of an upscale, private dining club in the city served as the battleground. Diane had used her last remaining political favor to arrange an emergency meeting in a private room. She sat at a long mahogany table, flanked by her lead attorney and Judge Harrison, a fair-skinned, corrupt official who had been in her pocket for years.
"I don't care what documents she forged," Diane hissed to the judge, her rosy skin pale and haggard. "She assaulted me. She is a danger to my grandson. I want the emergency custody order signed right now, and I want her locked in a psych ward by midnight."
"It's highly irregular, Diane," Judge Harrison murmured, adjusting his glasses. "Especially with her financial team suddenly freezing your accounts. It looks like retaliation."
"It is survival!" Diane snapped. "Just sign the damn paper!"
Before the judge could pick up his pen, the heavy oak doors of the private dining room swung open.
Claire Bennett walked in.
She looked absolutely devastating. She wore a tailored white suit that highlighted her movie-star beauty, her fair skin glowing under the warm club lighting. But it was the sheer, radiating aura of absolute power that silenced the room. She was flanked by Marcus and two massive, highly trained security personnel.
"I wouldn't sign that, Judge Harrison," Claire said, her voice echoing with a cold, devastating certainty.
"Claire!" Diane shrieked, standing up so fast her chair tipped over backward. "How did you get in here? Security!"
"Security works for me now, Diane," Claire said smoothly, walking slowly toward the table. "I bought this club three hours ago."
The lawyer and the judge exchanged terrified glances.
"Judge Harrison," Claire continued, pulling a sleek folder from Marcus's hands and tossing it onto the mahogany table. "Inside that folder are the offshore routing numbers tracing the bribes Diane Bennett has been paying you for the last six years. Along with photographs of your meetings."
The judge went completely pale, his hands shaking as he looked at the folder.
"You have two choices," Claire said, leaning her hands on the table, her eyes locking onto the corrupt official. "You can sign that custody order, and I will have this folder delivered to the FBI, the IRS, and every major news outlet in the state by morning. Or, you can stand up, walk out of this room, and resign from the bench tomorrow citing health reasons."
Judge Harrison didn't say a word. He stood up, his face slick with sweat, and practically ran out of the private dining room, completely abandoning Diane.
"You coward!" Diane screamed after him. She turned back to Claire, her chest heaving, her eyes wild with the realization that she was entirely, utterly defeated.
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"Your lawyer can leave too," Claire noted casually.
The attorney didn't wait for permission. He grabbed his briefcase and bolted, leaving Diane entirely alone with the woman she had tormented.
