Chapter 5 - The Legal War
By 7:00 a.m. the next morning, the world had exploded.
Every major news outlet in North America had Ethan Carter’s face and Dr. Andrew Vaughn’s mugshot on their front pages. The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, and TMZ were all running the same headline: "CARTER FOUNDATION HERO UNMASKS PEDIATRIC SURGEON AS DOMESTIC MONSTER."
I woke up in Ethan's guest bedroom wrapped in high-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets. For the first time in a year, I didn't wake up in pain. I didn't wake up fearing the sound of footsteps outside my door.
When I stepped into the kitchen, Ethan was already awake, wearing a crisp dark grey suit without a tie. His top button was open, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone. He was on the phone with a panel of lawyers while sipping black coffee.
"...I don't care what his bail is set at," Ethan was saying coldly into the receiver. "Hire whatever firm we need to petition the judge for remand without bail. He is a flight risk and a danger to society... Good. Keep me updated."
He hung up, turning to look at me. His expression instantly softened.
"Good morning," Ethan said softly. "How did you sleep?"
"Better than I have in months," I admitted, stepping closer to the kitchen island. "What's happening outside?"
"Andrew’s legal team is trying to spin this," Ethan said frankly, walking over to pour me a mug of hot coffee—exactly two sugars, oat milk. "They're claiming the footage was fabricated using AI and that I orchestrated a smear campaign to take control of his research patents."
My hands tightened around the warm mug. "Can he get away with that?"
"Not a chance," Ethan said, a sharp, confident edge in his voice. "Because we have something he didn't count on."
"What?"
"The medical records," Ethan said, pulling out a iPad and placing it on the marble counter. "I had my medical legal team subpoena the ER records from three different hospitals across New Jersey and Connecticut—places Andrew forced you to go under fake names over the past nine months so New York doctors wouldn't report it. We matched the entry times with his credit card statements and cell phone tower logs."
I stared at him in disbelief. "You found all of that in twelve hours?"
"I have forty lawyers working on this, Ava," Ethan said plainly. "Andrew Vaughn made the mistake of thinking he was the smartest man in the room. He forgot that I build systems for a living. I am going to strip him of his medical license, his fortune, and his freedom."
Suddenly, the intercom on the kitchen wall chimed. Marcus's voice came through.
"Mr. Carter, Dr. Vaughn’s head defense attorney, Arthur Vance, is downstairs in the lobby. He's demanding a private meeting with you and Miss Ava. He claims he has 'information' that will change your mind."
Ethan looked at me. "Do you want to handle this, or do you want me to kick him off the property?"
I took a deep breath, feeling a newfound strength blooming inside me. For months I had been hiding. I was done hiding.
"Let him up," I said firmly. "I want to hear what he has to say."
Ten minutes later, Arthur Vance—a high-priced, slick defense attorney known for representing corrupt politicians—stepped into the penthouse. He carried a leather briefcase and wore a smug, condescending smile.
"Mr. Carter, Miss Ava," Vance said smoothly, offering no handshake. "Let's be adults here. My client is a decorated surgeon. A trial will be ugly, public, and destructive to everyone involved. Miss Ava's personal medical background will be dragged through the mud. Her family's financial struggles will be plastered across every tabloid."
"Get to the point, Vance," Ethan said coldly, leaning back against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.
Vance opened his briefcase and pulled out a signed document. "Dr. Vaughn is willing to surrender his seat on the Carter board and sign a non-disclosure agreement. In exchange, Miss Ava drops the criminal charges, and Mr. Carter issues a public statement claiming the video shown last night was an unverified internal dispute. If you agree, Dr. Vaughn will also pay Miss Ava a settlement of five million dollars."
Vance slid the document across the island toward me.
"Five million dollars to buy my silence?" I asked, my voice steady.
"It's a very generous offer for a former assistant," Vance said condescendingly, looking down at me. "Take the money, Miss Ava. Walk away before your life gets picked apart in open court."
Before I could answer, Ethan took a step forward. The air in the room instantly dropped ten degrees.
"Vance," Ethan said, his voice quiet, low, and laced with absolute terror. "You have thirty seconds to take that paper off my counter and get out of my sight before I buy your law firm and fire you personally."
May you like
Vance blinked, his smug expression cracking. "Mr. Carter, you can't—"
"I can," Ethan interrupted. "And as for your five million dollars..." Ethan picked up the document, tore it cleanly in half, and tossed the pieces into the trash bin. "Tell your client he better save his money. He's going to need it for the commissary in federal prison."
