LONDON
For me, sitting in a courtroom is like a drug.
I’m addicted to watching little bitches like Mitch Reeves sweat.
Reeves is just as slimy as the client sitting to his right.
Both men wear matching expressions of victory.
The smug victory smirk is my favorite. I live for it.
It makes grabbing imbeciles like Reeves and his client, Bradford Davis, by their balls so satisfying.
To recap, Mr. Davis blindsided his wife of thirty-five years with divorce papers six months ago.
He tried to take the quick and easy route by claiming irreconcilable differences.
At first, Mrs. Davis was going to accept it even though she was utterly devastated.
But when Mr. Davis also announced he was leaving her with nothing but her personal items and the car he bought her five years ago, she decided it was time to fight.
I still remember the day Caroline Davis walked into my office.
She was a wreck and lost. Mrs. Davis spent over thirty years dependent on her husband and was suddenly facing homelessness.
Not on my watch. If I know anything, it's if a loving and devoted husband of thirty-plus years turns cold and distant out of the blue, you can bet your ass he’s dipping his funky wick where it doesn’t belong.
Men are dogs, and they’re all predictable.
At first, Mrs. Davis insisted her husband would never cheat, but after some convincing, she finally agreed to let me hire a private detective to see what her not-so-loyal husband had been up to.
I wasn’t surprised to find out I was right.
Mrs. Davis, on the other hand, was devastated. I watched that poor woman’s heart break. Then, she turned it into anger and rage. Rage, I could work with. It meant nailing her cheating husband’s ass to the wall. Which is exactly what I'm about to do.
Yesterday, we sat and listened to Reeves’ lame attempt at painting Mr. Davis as a picture-perfect husband.
Today, however, is my time to shine. As Mr. Davis makes his way to the stand, I cut my eyes over to Reeves.
He flashes me a killer smile—one that he thinks can bring any woman to her knees, when it would have me covering my drink.
Ignoring Reeves, I uncross my legs and stand. With my eye on the prize, I casually stand in front of the judge and Mr. Davis. “Mr. Davis, per your testimony yesterday, you’d consider yourself a good husband and provider, wouldn’t you?”
Mr. Davis plasters on a fake smile. “Yes, I would say that’s correct. I’ve always prided myself on being a devoted husband and father.”
I nod. “And what about Mrs. Davis? Would you say she has been a good wife?”
Mr. Davis shrugs and the gesture pisses me off, but I keep my composure. Men like Mr. Davis see no real value in what it takes to be a homemaker.
“I guess so,” he replies.
“You guess so?” I ask. “Wouldn’t you think dropping out of college so she could get a job and support you while you finished medical school would constitute a good wife, Mr. Davis?”
“Yes, but—” Mr. Davis tries to cut in, but I don’t give him the chance.
“Not only did Mrs. Davis give up her dreams of finishing medical school, but she also picked up a second job during your first year of residency to support the son you two had together?”
“Well…"
“Do you also recall promising your wife that you’d support her returning to school once you finished your residency?”
“I did, but?—”
“Only you didn’t follow through on that promise, did you, Mr. Davis?
You decided you wanted to open your own practice.
Therefore, your wife once again had to put her dreams on hold.
But instead of going back to school, she continued to support you like a good wife while you built a successful practice.
One that has been operating for over fifteen years. ”
Mr. Davis’s face turns red with anger. “She could have gone back to school at any time.”
“Is that right? Let’s see, Mr. Davis. While you were finishing medical school and building your practice, your wife was busy working a full-time job, and when she was finally able to quit her job, she was busy raising your three children.
What do you think a stay-at-home mom does all day, Mr. Davis?
” I don’t give him a chance to answer. “I’ll tell you what a stay-at-home mom is.
She is a maid, a nurse, a chauffeur, a teacher, a cook, a secretary, a mediator, a party planner, and a therapist. Being a stay-at-home mom is the single hardest job anyone is tasked with.
Your wife dedicated thirty-five years to helping you build your dream while taking care of your family, and I find it rather insulting that when I asked you if Mrs. Davis was a good wife, you simply shrugged your shoulders.
It seems to me, Mr. Davis, that you would not be where you are today if you did not have your wife.
We also find it insulting that the only possessions you feel she is entitled to today are the car and the clothes on her back. ”
“Your honor.” Reeves stands, cutting off my line of questioning.
Judge Bishop holds his hand up. “I’d like Mr. Davis to answer the question."
I nod my appreciation and turn back to Mr. Davis, who shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “I worked hard for my career.”
“That wasn’t what I asked, Mr. Davis. Would you or would you not be where you are today without your wife?”
Mr. Davis purses his lips. “No, but?—”
“I didn’t think so. Now, I’m going to move on to my next question. You stated yesterday that you simply fell out of love with your wife and that it wouldn’t be fair to you or her to stay in a loveless marriage. Is that correct?”
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
“Hmm.” I turn, walk over to the table where Mrs. Davis is sitting, and pick up a file folder. “So, you’re saying it’s not because you have been carrying on an affair with your partner's wife for the past ten months?”
Reeves flies to his feet once again. “Objection!”
“I have evidence, your honor.” I hold up the folder.
“Overruled. You may proceed, Ms. Monroe.”
“Thank you, your honor.” I open the folder, producing the first photograph. “Mr. Davis, is this you in the photograph?” I hold up the image before him and watch as the color drains from his face.
“Ye… yes.”
Approaching the bench, I hand over the image to the judge.
“Your honor, as you can see, this is an image of Mr. Davis with his arms around and kissing a woman who is not his wife. I also want to note the time stamp on that photograph. It was taken just two days after Mr. Davis served Mrs. Davis with divorce papers. I have over sixty other photos of Mr. Davis and that same woman who has been identified as Melody Bartel, wife of Jim Bartel, Mr. Davis’s partner.
” I hand over the folder to the judge. “I’d like to note, your honor, that my client is not only asking for half of all marital assets, but we are requesting compensation for emotional distress. ”
“Like hell!” Mr. Davis jumps to his feet. “She’s not getting anywhere near my money.” Spittle flies from his mouth.
Judge Bishop slams his gavel. “Mr. Davis, I’m going to suggest you keep your composure while in my courtroom.” Judge Bishop then addresses Reeves. “Mr. Reeves, I’m advising you to keep your client in check. Another outburst like that and he will spend the night in jail.”
“Yes, your honor,” Reeves says, clearly agitated. “My apologies.”
“Apologies! Those bitches are trying to rob me blind, and you’re apologizing?”
I hide my smirk as the judge slams his gavel. “That is enough, Mr. Davis. I’m holding you in contempt.”
“Your honor, if I may—” Reeves attempts to placate the judge but doesn’t succeed.
“Save it, Mr. Reeves. I’ve heard all I need to hear and am ready to rule.”
Reeves tries to argue once again. “But your honor, I haven’t had time to investigate this so-called evidence my opposing counsel submitted before the court.”
“Mr. Reeves, don't push your luck.” Judge Bishop narrows his gaze. Lucky for Reeves, he still has some sense left and zips his lips.
“I hereby award Mrs. Davis half of the marital assets along with the house in which she and Mr. Davis shared. I’m also granting alimony in the sum of ten thousand dollars per month.
Mr. Davis will also be required to pay Mrs. Davis the sum of five hundred and fifty thousand dollars in emotional distress damages, along with all of Mrs. Davis’s attorney fees.
The court is adjourned. Bailiff, please take Mr. Davis into custody, where he will spend the next twenty-four hours thinking about how he will behave in my courtroom.
” With his ruling made, Judge Bishop slams the gavel.
I turn to Mrs. Davis, who has a death grip on my hand and a look of disbelief on her face. “Did that just happen?”
“You bet your ass that just happened.” I beam.
As if the weight of the world suddenly falls from her shoulders, Mrs. Davis looks at me with tears running down her face, then wraps her arms around me.
I immediately return her embrace. This right here is why I do what I do.
This incredibly kind and beautiful woman gave up her entire life for a man who in the end, had no appreciation and treated her like shit.
“I don’t know what I can do to repay you for all you have done for me.”
I look Mrs. Davis in the eyes. “Do you want to know how you can repay me?”
She nods.
“Go live your life for you. Go back to school. Go on that vacation you’ve always wanted. The world is at your fingertips.”
“You’re right.” Mrs. Davis wipes the tears from her eyes. “I’ve been begging Bradford for years to take me to Australia. I think it’s time I take myself.”
“Hell yeah. And while you are down under, you should find yourself a hot Aussie who likes to go down under.” I wink, making Mrs. Davis blush.