MY HUSBAND TRAPPED HIS LABORING WIFE INSIDE THE HOUSE AND DEMANDED A DIVORCE SIGNATURE BEFORE TAKING HER TO THE HOSPITAL—BUT WHY DID HER MISSING PHONE RING FROM INSIDE THE BATHROOM WALL? / Chapter 6 / 19

Chapter 7 - The First CounterstrikeThe legal battle didn't unfold quietly as Richard Vale had hoped. The moment our law firm filed a countersuit backed by full evidence—including internal emails, Willowbrook Estates zoning blueprints, and copies of the forged medical evaluations Emma had extracted—provincial club society and city elites were thrown into shock.

Local media picked up the story. The front-page headline of the Providence Chronicle on Wednesday morning blared in bold letters:

“Million-Dollar Wedding Scandal: Elite Vale Family Accused of Land Grab Conspiracy.”

Stephanie’s phone began ringing nonstop—not with threats, but with financial investigative reporters and business partners from her father's corporate board.

That morning, I was standing outside the farm's woodshop fixing a wooden fence when tires shrieked on the gravel path. A silver sedan slammed to a halt right in front of the house.

Richard Vale stepped out. He looked ten years older after just a few days. His expensive Italian suit was rumpled, his face pale with rage and anxiety. He strode straight toward me, pointing a finger directly in my face.

"You're out of your mind, Charles! Who do you think you're fighting?" Richard roared, spitting as he spoke. "You think you can take down my family with a bunch of trash documents? I'll hire the best legal team on the East Coast to crush you until you don't have a penny left!"

I slowly set my hammer down on the workbench and stood up straight. With my height and the solid physique of an engineer who labored year-round, I stepped toward Richard, making him instinctively take a step back.

"Don't shout on my land, Richard," I said, my voice low and ice-cold. "And you should review your own financial situation before threatening anyone. Have your board partners read the emails discussing the local judge's reelection fund yet? Or do the shareholders know your real estate firm is about to get caught up in a federal criminal fraud case?"

All color drained from Richard’s face. He stammered: "You... you don't have the right..."

"I have every right to protect my family and my legacy," I interrupted. "The wedding is off. The Willowbrook grading project is dead. If within the next twenty-four hours you don't drop the civil lawsuit entirely and swear never to come near my mother again, I will release the recording of our call last time all over social media."

Richard stared at me, trembling. He understood the consequences if those audio clips fell into the hands of the tax authorities and securities commission.