At the door, she paused and turned around. “Rachel? Thank you for trusting me with this.”
Rachel was already reaching for her next file, but she looked up long enough to give Miller a small nod. “Earn it.”
Miller closed the door behind her and headed for her own office, the folder pressed tightly against her chest. She knew Astoria Shepry was out there going about her day, probably unaware that her ex-wife had just hired new attorneys and that Miller Scott was about to spend nearly every waking moment of the next several months building an iron-clad case against her.
And Miller didn’t feel sorry at all for her. You didn’t get to spend fifteen years terrorizing someone, making them feel invisible and insignificant, and then complain when they finally fought back.
She looked at her wristwatch. Only forty-five minutes before Valerie arrived, and she had lots of work to catch up on.
Valerie Shepry-Dane arrived seven minutes early, which Miller noted with approval. Punctuality suggested someone who respected other people’s time—or someone who’d spent years walking on eggshells, always making sure she couldn’t be criticized for being late.
Miller met her in the reception area and was struck immediately by how different she seemed from what she’d expected. The woman in the gala photo had been polished, yes, but distant somehow, as if she’d been performing a role. The woman now standing in Hartwell & Associates’ modest lobby was warmer and more present. Valerie wore a cream silk blouse and tailored gray slacks that were expensive but not garish, and when she smiled at Miller, it reached her eyes.
“You must be Miller Scott.” Valerie extended her hand, her grip firm but not too tight. “Rachel told me you’d be workingon my case. I can’t tell you how much it means to me to have someone else in my corner.”
“We’re glad you’re here,” Miller said, meaning every word. “Can I get you anything before we start? Coffee, water, tea?”
“Water would be lovely, thank you.”
Valerie’s voice had a slight tremor underneath its composure, the kind of micro-shake that came from holding yourself together through sheer willpower. Miller recognized it, had heard it dozens of times in this office.
She led Valerie to the conference room where Rachel was already waiting, legal pad open and reading glasses on. The rain had picked up while Miller was reviewing files, now drumming steadily against the windows. Through the gray wash of water, downtown Phoenix Ridge was barely visible from the skyscraper’s windows: brick buildings, the distant spire of City Hall, cars crawling through slick streets with their headlights on.
“Valerie.” Rachel stood and shook her hand. “Thank you for coming in. Please, sit wherever you’re comfortable.”
When Miller came back from the break room with a fresh glass of cool water, Valerie chose the chair closest to the window, angling herself so she could see both attorneys and the door without craning her neck. A small decision, but Miller noticed it, the instinct to keep everyone in her line of sight. Another tell. She handed the glass to Valerie and took her seat.
“Before we begin,” Rachel said, settling back into her chair, “I want you to know that everything discussed in this room is confidential. Miller will be your primary contact throughout this process, but I’ll be leading the strategy and any court appearances. We work as a team here. You’re not alone.”
Something like gratitude, or maybe relief, flickered across Valerie’s face before she suppressed it. “That’s… Thank you. My last attorneys made me feel like I was just another file on their desk, just another billable hour.”
“You’re not,” Miller asserted. “We know this is your life, and we take that seriously.”
Valerie’s eyes met hers, and Miller saw the shine of tears being held back. “I knew I made the right choice coming here.”
Rachel led the conversation with ease, walking Valerie through the basics to establish the timeline of the marriage, division of assets, and what she was hoping to achieve. Miller took notes, her pen moving steadily across the legal pad as she captured dates and details that condensed a marriage into concise bullet points.
But it was when Rachel asked about the marriage itself that Miller’s pen slowed.
“It wasn’t always bad,” Valerie said, her voice softening as a sad smile formed. “When we first met, Astoria was…magnetic. She made me feel like I was the only person in the room. I thought we were building a future together. I believed in her vision.”
“What changed?” Miller spoke up.
Valerie was quiet for a moment, her manicured fingers tracing the edge of her water glass. “It was gradual, so gradual I didn’t even see it happening. During the first few years, I was handling a lot of the day-to-day partnerships, networking, and relationship building with investors. Astoria was the visionary, but I was the one making people feel valued, you know? Making them want to work with us.”
Miller nodded. She could picture Valerie’s warmth smoothing the edges of Astoria’s ice queen reputation.
“But somewhere along the way, my contributions started disappearing.” Valerie’s voice caught. “Astoria would present my ideas in board meetings like they were her own. When investors complimented our client relationships, she’d accept the praise without mentioning me at all. And when I tried to talk to her about it, she’d tell me that I was just oversensitive and imaginingthings.” She pressed her lips together in a tight, thin line. “After enough years of hearing that, you start to believe it.”
Rachel scribbled a note. “You mentioned in the intake there was financial control. Can you tell us more about that?”
“Yes. Everything went through Astoria. Everything.” Valerie’s hands moved as she spoke, elegant gestures that seemed to flow through her. “I was COO of the hospitality division. On paper, I had authority, but any decision costing over fifty grand needed her approval. She’d question my judgment, second-guess my projections, and ask for reports I’d already sent her twice.” A hollow laugh escaped her. “I once spent three weeks preparing a proposal for a boutique hotel acquisition, and Astoria rejected it in a five-minute meeting in front of the entire executive team. She didn’t even read the full proposal, just glanced at the summary page and said it wasn’t ‘strategically aligned.’”
Miller’s pen moved faster. She could feel the burn of Rachel’s attention beside her, both of them building the same picture: a woman who had been systematically and publicly diminished, her expertise dismissed, and her confidence eroded year by year.
“The isolation was the worst part,” Valerie continued, her voice dropping. “I had good friends when we got married, but Astoria had opinions about them. Funny how they were always negative too. Lauren was ‘using me for access.’ Angela was ‘clearly attracted to me’ and made her uncomfortable. One by one, I stopped talking to them, telling them I was busy with work, but”—she shook her head—”I was just making excuses for her. I can see that now.”
“And the incident at the gala? Can you tell us about that?” Rachel prompted gently.
