Chapter 64 Prenuptial document
Vivienne's Pov
There was no bitterness in her voice when she said it. Just honesty.
"I really am sorry about that," I said again.
"I know you are. And we'll talk about it eventually. But right now you need to focus on getting through this divorce and figuring out what comes next." She checked her watch.
"I have to run to work for a few hours. Night shift at the gallery. Will you be okay here alone?"
"Yeah," I said. "I'll be fine."
She hesitated at the door. "There's food in the fridge. Help yourself to anything. And Viv? Don't spend all night overthinking this. What's done is done. Now you just have to move on."
After she left, the apartment felt very quiet.
I unpacked my suitcases slowly, hanging up clothes in the spare room closet, arranging my toiletries in the small bathroom we would now be sharing. It felt strange doing these mundane tasks. Like I was playing house in someone else's life.
My phone rang again. Unknown number this time.
I almost didn't answer. But something made me pick up.
"Hello?"
"Vivienne Moreau?" A woman's voice. Professional. Clipped.
"Yes?"
"This is Jennifer Park, Head of Human Resources at Moreau Industries. I'm calling to arrange a time for you to return your company laptop and access badge."
The laptop. Right. The laptop that probably had all kinds of evidence on it about my contributions to the company.
"When do you need it returned?" I asked carefully.
"End of business day tomorrow at the latest. You can drop it off at the security desk in the lobby. You don't need to come up to the office."
Of course I didn't. They didn't want me anywhere near the office. Didn't want me talking to former colleagues or accessing files or reminding anyone that I existed.
"I don't have the laptop," I said. "It's still in my office. I was locked out this morning before I could retrieve my personal belongings."
There was a pause on the other end. "Your office has been cleared out. All items will be sent to you."
My stomach dropped. "You cleared out my office? When?"
"This afternoon. As per standard termination protocol."
"And my laptop? My files?"
"Everything will be inventoried and sent to your address on file within five business days."
Five business days. Plenty of time to go through everything on that laptop. Delete anything that might be useful to me. Remove any evidence of my work.
"I need that laptop returned immediately," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "It contains personal files."
"Company property must be processed through proper channels," Jennifer said, her tone completely inflectionless.
"Everything will be returned to you according to protocol."
"Let me speak to Raphael," I said.
"Mr. Moreau is unavailable. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"No," I said. "There's nothing else."
I hung up and immediately called Monica.
She answered on the second ring. "I was just about to call you. I saw your email about the prenup documents. This is huge, Vivienne."
"They cleared out my office," I said. "HR just called. They're keeping my laptop for five business days to 'process' it. They're going to delete everything, aren't they?"
Monica was quiet for a moment. "Probably. But that's actually good for us."
"How is that good?"
"Because if they delete files or emails related to your work contributions, that's spoliation of evidence. It's illegal and judges take it very seriously. It makes them look like they're trying to hide something. Which they are."
"But then we won't have the evidence," I pointed out.
"We don't need the physical laptop if we can prove they destroyed evidence. Plus, corporate email servers keep backups. Those emails exist somewhere even if they delete them from your laptop. We can subpoena the server backups."
I sat down on Sarah's couch, my head spinning. Everything was moving so fast. Yesterday I was planning an anniversary dinner. Today I was talking about subpoenas and spoliation of evidence.
"There's something else," Monica said, and her voice changed. Become more careful. "I did some preliminary research on Moreau Industries' financial disclosures. The company went public eighteen months ago."
"I know," I said. "I helped prepare the IPO materials."
"Which means all their financial information is public record now. And Vivienne, the numbers are significant. Raphael Moreau's stock options alone are worth approximately fifty million dollars at current market value. That doesn't include his salary, bonuses, real estate, or other investments."
Fifty million dollars in stock options. Half of which would be marital property since he acquired them during our marriage.
Twenty-five million dollars. Just from the stock options alone.
"He offered me two million," I said quietly.
"He offered you less than ten percent of what you're legally entitled to," Monica confirmed. "And that's just from the stock. We haven't even looked at everything else yet."
I thought about Raphael standing at that window last night. Calm. Controlled. Asking for a divorce like he was ordering coffee.
He knew exactly what he was doing. Knew exactly how much he was trying to cheat me out of.
"I want everything I'm owed," I said. "Every penny."