Stalked By The Mad Dog Nephew

The conference room at the law firm of Sterling & Cooper was located on the 40th floor, overlooking the grey expanse of Wall Street. The air conditioning was set to a chilling temperature.

Augustus sat on one side of the mahogany table, flanked by three lawyers. He checked his watch impatiently.

The door opened.

Avery walked in.

Augustus blinked. He almost didn't recognize her.

Gone was the pastel cardigan. Gone was the soft, wavy hair. Avery was wearing a black suit, tailored so sharply it looked like armor. Her hair was slicked back into a severe, tight bun. Her makeup was minimal, highlighting the sharp angles of her cheekbones.

She didn't look down. She looked him straight in the eye.

She walked to the table. Augustus's lead attorney pushed the original contract forward. "Mrs. Garrison, if you'll just sign here..."

Avery didn't sit down. She picked up the contract. She walked over to the shredder in the corner of the room. She fed the document into the machine.

The mechanical whirring was deafening in the silence.

Augustus stood up, his face reddening. "What the hell are you doing?"

Avery turned. She signaled to a man sitting quietly in the corner-a lawyer Augustus didn't recognize. The man stood and distributed a set of thick, black binders to everyone at the table. As he set them down, he also placed a sleek, modern fountain pen in the center of the table, positioning it with deliberate care.

The binders slid across the polished mahogany with a heavy thud.

"Open it," Avery commanded. Her voice was steady, resonant. It wasn't a request.

Augustus opened the file.

His face drained of color.

The first page was a photograph of a bank statement from the Cayman Islands. An account he had sworn to the IRS didn't exist.

The second page was a log of insider trading transactions involving Garrison Biotech stock, dated three days before FDA announcements.

The third section was a detailed timeline. Gilda Nichols. The St. Regis. The Cartier receipts paid for with company funds.

"You've been busy," Avery said, leaning her hands on the table. She loomed over him.

"Where did you get this?" Augustus whispered, looking at his lawyer in panic. His lawyer was reading the file, looking pale.

"I want fifty percent of the marital assets," Avery said. "Liquidated. Cash."

"You're insane!" Augustus shouted. "That's two billion dollars!"

"And," Avery continued, ignoring his outburst, "I want five percent of the Garrison Biotech voting shares. They will be transferred to a holding company of my choosing, Citrus Ventures, for tax and privacy reasons."

"Never," Augustus spat. "My father will kill me."

Avery leaned closer. "Or I send this to the SEC. Today. Right now."

She pointed to the phone on the table. "And the photos go to TMZ. And the receipts go to the board of directors."

"Your stock will tank before the market opens tomorrow," she said softly. "You'll go to federal prison for insider trading. And your precious heir? He'll be born while his father is wearing an orange jumpsuit and his mother is selling her jewelry to pay legal fees."

Augustus looked at her. Really looked at her. He saw the cold intelligence in her eyes, the steel in her spine.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

Avery smiled. It was a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'm the woman you underestimated, Augustus."

Augustus's lawyer leaned in, whispering urgently into his ear. "She has you, Mr. Garrison. This is checkmate. If this gets out, you're finished."

Augustus slammed his fist onto the table. The binders jumped. He was shaking with rage, but he grabbed the pen. He signed the new agreement, the tip of the pen tearing through the paper.

Avery picked up the document. She checked the signature.

"Pleasure doing business," she said.

She turned on her heel and walked toward the door. The victory was absolute.