But mostly, you're wrong about Emily. She does need her father, and I'm not going to let you take her away from me. You don't have a choice. By Monday afternoon, you'll have a restraining order preventing you from coming within 500 ft of either of us.
By next month, you'll be living in a studio apartment wondering what happened to your life. "No," I said. "I won't." Something in my tone must have gotten through to her because she turned away from the window and really looked at me for the first time in months. "What are you going to do, Jack?
Hit me? That would certainly make the restraining order easier to justify. I'm not going to hit you. I'm not going to threaten you.
I'm not going to give you any ammunition for your victim narrative. Then what? I stood up and walked to the bedroom door. I'm going to destroy you the same way you destroyed me.
Methodically, legally, and completely. You can't. I can. I have evidence of fraud, conspiracy, identity theft, and about a dozen other felonies.
I have witnesses, documentation, and a prosecutor who's very interested in serial marriage fraud. By the time I'm done, you'll be lucky if bankruptcy is your biggest problem. I opened the door and paused. Oh, and Megan, that restraining order you're planning to file, I'm filing one first against you for harassment, surveillance, and threats against my business and personal safety.
You can't do that. Watch me. I walked out of the bedroom and down the hall to Emily's room. She wasn't home yet, but I could wait.
We needed to have a conversation about loyalty, truth, and the difference between protecting someone and enabling their worst impulses. The next morning was Saturday, which meant I had 48 hours to execute the most important plan of my life. I started by calling Lisa and arranging to meet at her office downtown. Then I called my lawyer, my accountant, and my business insurance agent.
By noon, I had a war council assembled and a strategy that would make Megan's schemes look like amateur hour. "The key is timing," Lisa explained, spreading documents across the conference table. "We need to file everything simultaneously, the fraud charges, the restraining order, the business protection injunction, and the divorce papers with a complete asset disclosure." "What about Nathan?" my lawyer asked. Nathan's agreed to testify in exchange for immunity from the business espionage charges.
He's also agreed to leave town permanently once this is resolved. And Emily, that was the question I'd been dreading. I don't know yet. I'm hoping she'll listen to reason once she understands what her mother really is.
And if she doesn't, then I'll fight for her, too. We spent the rest of the day preparing documents, organizing evidence, and coordinating with law enforcement. By evening, I had everything I needed to dismantle Megan's life as thoroughly as she'd tried to dismantle mine. Emily came home around 10:00 and I was waiting in the living room when she walked through the door.
Dad, what are you doing up? Waiting for you. We need to talk. She sat down on the couch across from me and I saw weariness in her eyes that broke my heart.
M I need to ask you something and I need you to tell me the truth. Has your mother been talking to you about me? About my behavior, my temper, whether I've been acting dangerous or unstable? Emily was quiet for a long moment, and I saw her struggling with conflicting loyalties.
Yes, she said finally. What has she told you? That you've been having some kind of breakdown? That you've been following her, threatening people, acting paranoid and violent?
That she's afraid of what you might do. And do you believe her? Another pause. I don't know what to believe anymore.
You have been acting weird lately. Different. Different how? Angrier, more secretive, like you're planning something.
I am planning something. I'm planning to save our family from someone who's been lying to both of us for a very long time. I told Emily everything about Megan's previous marriages, the fraud, the elaborate scheme to destroy me financially and emotionally. I showed her the evidence, the documentation, the pattern of behavior that painted her mother as a serial predator rather than a victim.
Emily listened without interrupting, her face growing paler with each revelation. This can't be true, she said when I finished. I wish it wasn't, but it is. Mom wouldn't do this.
She loves us. Your mother loves herself. We're just assets to be managed and eventually liquidated. Emily stood up abruptly and started pacing around the living room.
This is insane. You're asking me to believe that my mother is some kind of criminal mastermind who's been planning to destroy our family for years. I'm asking you to look at the evidence and draw your own conclusions. The evidence could be fake.
People can fabricate anything these days. Then call the Nevada Department of Records and ask them about Margaret Thompson's marriage to Robert Chen in 1998. Call the Clark County Courthouse and ask about the divorce proceedings in 2001. Call the Colorado Secretary of State and ask about Margaret Chen's marriage to David Rodriguez in 2003.
Emily stopped pacing and stared at me. You really believe this? I know this. The question is whether you're going to help me stop her or help her finish what she started.