A Lawyer's Vengeance

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My name is Cara Hamilton, the youngest partner at HJ Law Firm.

At four in the afternoon, just as the court's judgment in our favor arrived on my phone, Evan George called.

Cara, we've won!

Thanks to you this time. Now that we've won the YS Capital case, no one in the circle will dare say I advanced by luck. His voice was brimming with barely contained excitement, accompanied by the faint clinking of champagne glasses in the background.

I held the phone and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the bustling crowd below, softly replying with a gentle "hmm."

Over the past three years, this marks the third pivotal commercial case I have helped Evan George win.

From the time he first entered the profession, facing constant rejection while carrying a business plan, to now securing his position as a rising talent in the investment banking sector, I have devoted nearly all my spare time to his cases.

Colleagues at the Law Firm often half-jokingly say that I am not simply assisting my husband with litigation, but cultivating the largest potential client for HJ Law Firm.

I smiled without responding.

Only I understand that what motivates me is not commercial gain, but the promise Evan George made to me ten years ago "Once I have established myself, I will make sure you live the best life possible."

Tomorrow is our tenth wedding anniversary.

Evan George said he wanted to surprise me, asking me to leave work early to prepare at home.

I specifically asked my assistant to reserve a hard-to-get table at a restaurant downtown, and I took out the champagne-colored dress he gave me three years ago.

As I stepped out of the law firm's main entrance, the setting sun bathed the sky in a warm orange hue.

Walking toward the parking lot in high heels, I saw from a distance a girl standing next to my car wearing the same style dress.

The dress's design is not common; I personally ordered it last year at Fashion Week, and it is limited to only five pieces worldwide.

The girl looked to be in her early twenties, her skin fair, her eyes holding a clarity untouched by the world, yet subtly edged with an almost imperceptible defiance.

"Are you Cara Hamilton?" She spoke first, her voice soft and gentle, at odds with the look in her eyes.

I stopped, examining the skirt she worealmost identical to mineas a faint chill crept over my fingertips.

"I am. And you are?"

"My name is Willa Xavier." She stepped forward and took her phone from her canvas bag, the screen showing a photo of her with Evan George.

In the photo, Evan George is wearing the dark gray suit I gave him, bowing his head to help Willa Xavier tidy her hair. The tenderness in his eyes is something I have never seen before.

The background is the floor-to-ceiling window of our bedroom; the champagne-colored silk curtains were handpicked by me.

"We've been together for two years." Willa's voice was soft but, like an ice pick, it stabbed sharply into my heart.

"He said once he firmly establishes himself, he will divorce you."

I stood rooted to the spot, feeling as if all the blood in my body had frozen.

The sunset's light fell upon Willa Xavier's gown, refracting a dazzling brillianceidentical to the look in Evan George's eyes when he said, "I will love you forever"both deceitful and intensely fervent.

That night, when Evan George returned, he bore the scent of alcohol and a carefully arranged bouquet of roses.

He saw me sitting on the sofa, pale-faced, clutching a photo left by Willa Xavier; the smile on his face immediately stiffened.

"Cara, please listen to my explanation..." He discarded the roses in his hand and hurriedly reached out to take my hand.

I abruptly withdrew, the chill at my fingertips transferring to his hand.

He paused in surprise, then crouched before me, his tone urgent and flustered: "Willa was the one who pursued me. I intended to end it, but she is too young and reckless, constantly threatening me with suicide."

I studied the redness in his eyes, suddenly recalling his frequent late returns over the past six months and the growing number of encrypted files on his phone.

"That skirtdid you give it to her?" I cut him off, my voice so calm it felt almost foreign to myself.

Evan George's eyes flickered as he hesitated and stammered, "She... she saw you dressed nicely and kept pestering me. I was momentarily confused..."

As he spoke, he suddenly raised his hand and slapped himself hard across the face, the impact instantly reddening one side of his face.

"Cara, I was wrong. I truly was wrong. Give me one more chance. I'll call her right now and sever all ties with her."

He took out his phone and dialed Willa Xavier's number in front of me, his tone icy cold: "Do not contact me again. This is the end between us."

I didn't catch what was said over the phone, but his expression darkened progressively, and finally, he growled, "Don't persist any further," before hanging up.

"Cara, look, I've severed all ties with her." He handed me his phone, his eyes full of pleading.

"Our ten years together cannot be destroyed because of an immature young woman."

I neither took his phone nor said a word.

That night, I stayed in the guest room.

The moonlight outside was bright, illuminating the case files I had helped him organize, piled up in the room.

I remember ten years ago when he rode a secondhand bicycle to take me to street food stalls, the time he first received a bonus and bought me a cheap necklace, and when he waited outside the courtroom, pride shining in his eyes after my victory.

These memories flashed through my mind like scenes from a movie, overlapping with the photos on Willa Xavier's phoneblurry yet piercing.

The next morning, as I stepped out of the guest room, I saw Evan George sitting at the dining table with my favorite soup dumplings and soy milk before him.

His eyes were bloodshot, clearly from a sleepless night.

"Cara, I know I have hurt you, but my love for you is sincere." He stood up and approached me, gently taking my hand in his.

"Please, give me one more chance."

I looked into his exhausted eyes and finally nodded.

Not because I forgave him, but because ten years of shared memories were too heavy to let go so easily.

Furthermore, as a lawyer, I am accustomed to collecting ample evidence before making any decisions.

After that day, Evan George truly reined himself in considerably.

He no longer stayed out late frequently, stopped encrypting his phone, and even entrusted me with his salary card for safekeeping.

Only occasionally would I find lipstick stains in his suit pocket that were not mine, or hear faint female voices on his dashcam.

I did not confront him; I simply preserved all this evidence quietly.

I was busy expanding the law firm's business and helping my son Malcolm George prepare for his entrance exams, dedicating all my energy to work and Malcolm.

I told myself that as long as he could maintain the facade of this family and Malcolm could grow up in a healthy environment, I could temporarily endure this fractured marriage.

The days passed by in a neither bitter nor sweet manner for six years.

Malcolm was admitted to the city's top middle school, and I became a core partner at the law firm, handling several prominent cases in the industry.

To celebrate Malcolm's school admission, I purchased a villa with a garden in the suburbs and planned to renovate it to provide Malcolm with a more comfortable environment.

That day, I took half a day off specifically to supervise the renovation; just as I reached the villa's entrance, I overheard a conversation between a woman and the foreman next door.

"The wardrobe in the children's room must be built-in. Ralph has too many toys, so we need to save some space." The woman's voice was very familiarsoft and gentle, exactly as Willa Xavier sounded six years ago.

"Rest assured, Ms. Xavier, we will definitely proceed according to your instructions."

"Mr. George specifically instructed that this place must be decorated with grandeur." The foreman's voice was tinged with flattery.

Mr. George?

My footsteps stopped abruptly, and my heart plunged.

"Ralph is five years old this year, right in the mischievous stage. We'll need to carefully plan this yard to leave him a place to play." Willa Xavier's voice carried a warm maternal tenderness.

"By the way, is Evan coming home for dinner today? He's been busy with that project lately and hasn't seen Ralph for several days."

"Mr. George said he will definitely be home tonight and asked us to accelerate the progress, saying he wants to move in as soon as possible to reunite with you and Mr. Ralph."

I couldn't hear the rest clearly.

The sunlight was dazzling, yet I felt a chill throughout my body; even my fingertips trembled slightly.

Five-year-old Ralph...

When Willa Xavier came to see us six years ago, she was probably already pregnant.

And Evan George's so-called "cutting ties" was merely a more covert method of continuing to sustain this distorted relationship.

He uses the reputation and wealth I helped him gain to support another woman and their child, even buying a house next door, intending to live a "one husband, two wives" lifestyle.

I turned and walked into my villa. The foreman immediately approached me and said, "Mrs. Hamilton, you've arrived. Please take a look at the color of this wall. Does it meet your requirements?"

I suppressed the turmoil inside, nodded slightly, and said, "It looks good. Please continue with your work."

As I left the villa, I took out my phone and called the bank's account manager.

"Please freeze all joint accounts under Evan George's name that involve my name. Additionally, regarding his personal credit loan with your bank, I request that disbursement be suspended due to concerns about the use of funds."

The account manager paused briefly but quickly replied, "Understood, Mrs. Hamilton. I will address it immediately."

After hanging up, I contacted the law firm's finance department to instruct them to cease all legal support for Evan George's company and to compile all cooperation agreements related to Evan.

Having completed these tasks, I leaned against the car and gazed at the distant sky.

Six years of forbearance and concession resulted not in a prodigal son's return, but in an aggravation of betrayal.

This time, I will not show any leniency.

Based on the foreman's information, I easily found Willa Xavier and Evan George's residence.

It was a large flat in the city center; the property deed was in Willa Xavier's name, while the purchase payment had been transferred by Evan through a third-party company.

I instructed my assistant to gather all the bank transfer records and property information, printed them out, and compiled them into a thick dossier.

On Friday evening, I prepared dinner in advance for Malcolm. After watching him finish eating and return to his room to work on his homework, I drove to that large flat.

My hand was steady when I pressed the doorbell, without the slightest tremor.

The door was opened by Willa Xavier, dressed in pink silk pajamas. When she saw me, a flicker of panic crossed her eyes, but she quickly regained her composure.

"Mrs. Hamilton? What brings you here?" She turned aside to let me in, her tone deliberately familiar.

The living room was neatly arranged; a children's picture book lay on the coffee table, and a doll sat on the sofa.

Evan George sat on the sofa watching television. Seeing me enter, the remote in his hand slipped to the floor with a soft click.

"Cara? What are you doing here?" He hurriedly stood, his face marked by obvious distress. "I... I just came to discuss some work-related matters."

"Does discussing work require you to set up residence here?" I threw the documents onto the coffee table, my voice calm but laden with unquestionable authority.

"Evan, we need to talk."

Willa Xavier tried to speak, but Evan George silenced her with a look.

"You should return to your room first. Cara and I need to talk."

Willa bit her lip, shot me a fierce glare, and then turned to walk into the bedroom.

"Cara, please listen to me. It's not what you think." Evan George gripped my hand urgently, "Willa and I are just..."

"Just what?" I interrupted him, pointing at the children's picture book on the coffee table. "Just taking care of her five-year-old son? Or just buying her a large flat worth ten million?"

Evan George's complexion instantly turned pale.

"I know what you're thinking," he said, releasing my hand and stepping back, "but Ralph is just my godson. I pity Willa struggling alone with her child, so I'm merely giving her some support."

I laughed, the sound dripping with endless sarcasm.

I picked up the documents on the coffee table and flipped to the page with the Bank Transfer Records: "Supporting her means transferring fifty thousand a month for living expenses? Using company funds to buy her a house as well?"

"Evan, do you take me for a three-year-old?"

I turned to the next page, which contained Willa Xavier's prenatal report and Ralph's birth certificate. Although the father field on the birth certificate was blank, the birthdate was exactly ten months after I discovered their relationship six years ago.

Evan George's eyes grew increasingly frantic as he reached out to snatch the documents from my hands, but I dodged him.

"Enough, Cara!" He suddenly flew into a rage, snatching the papers from my hands and tearing them to shreds. "What exactly are you trying to do?"

"I'll end it with her, then. Must you force me like this?"

The shredded papers scattered across the floor, mirroring our shattered marriage.

"Am I the one forcing you?" I looked at his distorted face and suddenly felt a sense of estrangement. "Evan, from the moment you betrayed me, it wasn't me forcing you; it was you forcing yourself onto this path."

I took the Divorce Agreement from my bag and placed it in front of him. "This is the divorce agreement. I have already signed it."

"The property registered under your name, except for the small house we owned prior to marriage, constitutes marital property. I demand an equal division."

"Furthermore, custody of Malcolm will be with me, and you are to pay monthly child support."

Evan George stared at the Divorce Agreement, his face turning pale. "Cara, don't go too far! All that property was earned through my hard work. Why should I give you half?"

"Earned through your hard work?" I raised an eyebrow, took out my phone, and played a recording.

"Have you forgotten who helped you win the YS Capital case?"

"Have you forgotten who provided the legal support for your company?"

"Evan, without me, you are nothing."

The recording captured him bragging to friends at a dinner three years ago, calling me his "most capable free lawyer."

Evan George's expression grew even darker.

"I am not only seeking a division of assets," I stood and looked down on him with authority, "I have also uncovered that you misappropriated company funds to purchase a house for Willa Xavier, which constitutes embezzlement."

"Moreover, in several project collaborations, you have engaged in commercial bribery. I have already gathered all the evidence."

Evan George's body stiffened suddenly.

"You have two choices now," I said coldly, "either sign this divorce agreement and walk away empty-handed, in which case I will not pursue criminal charges against you; or we see each other in court, where you will not only lose your assets but also face imprisonment."

At that moment, the bedroom door suddenly opened, and Willa Xavier emerged holding a little boy.

The boy was very adorable, with facial features partly resembling Evan George's.

"Evan, you cannot sign!" Willa Xavier placed the child on the sofa and hurried to Evan George's side.

"Ralph is still so young. If you leave with nothing, what will become of us?"

Evan George looked at Willa Xavier, then at me, his eyes filled with inner turmoil.

"Cara, just give me a little more time, I..."

"I don't have time to wait for you." I interrupted him and glanced at my watch.

"Tomorrow at nine in the morning, I will be waiting for you at the law firm. If you don't show up, my lawyer will submit the evidence directly to the Procuratorate."

Having said that, I turned and walked away without a glance back.

As I stepped out of the elevator, my phone rang. It was Evan's mother calling.