Chapter 3 - The Midnight Lawyer
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Robert Vance arrived at my house before sunrise, the headlights of his black sedan cutting through the thick morning fog.
Robert had been my late husband’s closest friend in college. He was a ruthless corporate attorney who usually dealt with multimillion-dollar mergers, but when I called him at 3:00 AM, crying and frantic, he didn't hesitate.
He walked into my living room holding a briefcase and two cups of black coffee. After one look at Chloe, who was curled up on my sofa wrapped in three blankets, staring blankly at the wall, Robert’s expression changed from professional concern to something much colder and far more dangerous.
“Tell me everything,” Robert said softly, pulling up a chair and clicking his silver pen.
At first, Chloe could barely speak. Her voice was a fragile whisper, cracking on every other word. But slowly, the horrifying truth began to spill out.
For eight agonizing months, Damian had forced her to work at The Hearth seven days a week. She was designing the new menus, managing the chaotic reservations, scrubbing the floors after closing, and even handling the massive payroll accounts—all without paying her a single cent.
“He said everything belonged to us because we were married,” Chloe whispered, wiping a tear from her hollow cheek. “He said my money was his money, and my time was his time. When I asked for a salary to pay my old studio’s rent, he locked me in the walk-in freezer for two hours.”
Robert’s jaw tightened. He stopped writing.
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“Marriage doesn’t erase labor laws, Chloe,” Robert said firmly, his eyes dark with anger. “He treated you like an indentured servant. This goes beyond emotional abuse. This is financial captivity.”
Chloe trembled, pulling the blanket tighter. “Robert… there’s something else. The contract. I think I signed my entire life away.”
