Chapter 5 - The Fraudulent Paperwork
By noon, the news of Rossi Consulting's sudden, dramatic eviction had sent shockwaves through Manhattan's marketing and financial sectors.
In a high-end private conference room on the 58th floor of Sterling Tower—the floor that once belonged exclusively to Margaret Sterling—Rachel Vance and I sat across from a long mahogany table.
Sitting across from us was Alan Vance—Rachel’s estranged elder brother and one of the highest-paid criminal defense attorneys in New York, whom Luca had hired using his mother’s emergency credit card.
Luca sat beside his lawyer, looking utterly broken. His tie was loosened, his hair disheveled, and his hands were shaking as he clutched a paper cup of water.
"Let's be reasonable here, Rachel," Alan Vance began, leaning back in his leather chair with a patronizing smile. "My client made some romantic missteps. He was foolish. But this aggressive asset seizure is an extreme overreach. Under New York State marital property laws, any asset managed or improved during the marriage is subject to equitable distribution. That includes the family home and the value of Sterling Tower's lease equity."
Rachel didn't even look up from her laptop. "Alan, you’re reading from a freshman law textbook. Try again."
"I have the spousal waiver documents right here!" Alan slammed a stapled stack of papers onto the table. "Signed by Jessi Rossi four years ago. She explicitly waived all claims to Rossi Consulting’s commercial assets, intellectual property, and joint corporate credit lines!"
I picked up the document. There it was—my signature at the bottom of a heavy legal agreement dated March 14, 2022.
"I remember this day," I said quietly, looking at Luca. "You came home with dinner. You told me the kids needed new dental insurance, and that the firm was changing health providers. You asked me to sign four pages of 'policy enrollment forms' while I was nursing Leo."
Luca didn't make eye contact. He stared fixedly at the polished wood table.
"A brilliant little scheme, wasn't it, Luca?" Rachel Vance pulled out a thick envelope and laid it beside Alan’s papers. "Too bad you picked a terrible notary."
Alan frowned. "The notary seal is certified by the State of New York."
"It was certified by a notary named Chloe Ruiz," Rachel countered, her voice dropping like a hammer. "Who was not only your client's employee, but his active romantic partner. Furthermore, we conducted a forensic ink and spectral analysis on the signature page yesterday afternoon."
Rachel pulled out three high-resolution microscopic prints.
"The signature on page four was executed using a black gel pen manufactured in 2024," Rachel stated. "The document is dated 2022. Luca took a signature page Jessi signed for a routine tax extension two years ago, photocopied it onto a forged spousal waiver, and had his mistress illegally stamp it."
Alan Vance stared at the microscopic prints. The smug smirk vanished from his face instantly. He turned slowly to look at Luca.
"Is this true?" Alan demanded in a low, furious whisper.
Luca swallowed hard, his skin turning a sickening shade of grey. "Alan, I... I can explain—"
"Shut up," Alan snapped, dropping his pen. He turned back to Rachel, his entire demeanor changing from aggressive defense to desperate damage control. "What do you want?"
"We want a full, uncontested divorce settlement," I said, stepping forward and resting my hands on the table. "Luca surrenders all parental rights claims, waives all rights to marital property, assumes 100% of the fraudulent debt he opened under my name, and vacates all claims to the Sterling Estate."
"That's financial suicide!" Luca gasped, springing out of his chair. "I’ll be destitute! I’ll go to prison!"
"You're going to prison anyway, Luca," Rachel added coldly. "Because at two o'clock today, we are delivering these forensic handwriting reports to the District Attorney's Financial Crimes Division. You forged loan documents totaling nearly half a million dollars. That's a Class C felony."
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Luca fell back into his chair, pulling his hands over his face, sobbing pathetically.
"You have until five o'clock to sign the uncontested petition, Mr. Rossi," Rachel said, standing up and closing her portfolio. "Or your next deposition will be conducted in a orange jumpsuit at Rikers Island."
