CHAPTER 9
The final court hearing for the dissolution of our marriage and the transfer of property took place at the Miami-Dade County Courthouse on a bright, clear Friday afternoon.
Reporters lined the steps outside, their cameras flashing as I arrived in a sleek black car, flanked by Owen and my legal team.
Inside the courtroom, the judge didn't even hesitate.
Given the overwhelming physical evidence of systemic fraud, forged power of attorney documents, and financial conversion, the ruling was swift and absolute.
Harold was stripped of his executive privileges, ordered to vacate all residential properties within forty-eight hours, and required to pay millions in back-dated dividend restitution to the Robbins estate.
As we stood up to leave the courtroom, Harold called out my name from the defense table, his voice small, cracked, and completely devoid of hope.
"Anastasia... please," he choked out, staring at me with hollow, tear-filled eyes. "What am I supposed to do now? I have nothing left."
I paused, turning to face the man who had tried to reduce my entire worth to a twenty-dollar joke in front of a room full of strangers.
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"You can do what I did for twenty-seven years, Harold," I said quietly, looking down at him without hatred, but without a shred of pity left in my heart. "You can learn how to live in the quiet background of someone else's story."
I turned my back on him for the final time, walking out of the courtroom into the bright Florida sunshine where my new life was waiting for me.
