She's nothing but a gold digger who abused her in-laws and brother-in-law. I hope they sue her into the ground and she ends up behind bars!
Prison would be too good for her. Someone like that, trying to steal a family's entire fortune, deserves to be shipped off to some hellhole!
Dried-up old hag thinks she's hot stuff just because she's got a couple bucks? Toss her on the street and even the dogs would walk away!
The more I tried to ignore those vicious comments, the more they followed me, each one a knife twisting into my chest.
I knew exactly what they were after. I hadn't gone crawling back in the past few days, and the demolition compensation hearing was the day after tomorrow. They were terrified I'd show up and stake my claim.
So they'd decided to go all in. Destroy my reputation, cast themselves as the poor, helpless victims, and tip the scales in their favor. If everything went according to plan, they'd walk away with everything, and I'd leave the marriage with nothing.
I didn't care about the noise. Anyone who actually knew me knew the kind of person I was.
But I had no intention of letting them get what they wanted. So I took them straight to court.
Jonathan submitted a pile of evidence, some real, some fabricated. His only witnesses were his mother and his brother.
My lawyer submitted evidence too.
Jonathan's pay stubs and a full record of where every dollar went. My own salary records and spending history. Receipts for his parents' medical bills. Bank transfers covering Roland's living expenses all through college.
When my lawyer finished his closing statement, the courtroom erupted.
"Wait, the video was fake? The old lady was just playing for sympathy?"
"The brother-in-law's a leech himself, and he had the nerve to post fake videos trashing her? How does he even show his face?"
"My God, this whole family flipped the story upside down. Unbelievable."
Mrs. Parsons's face went sour. She clearly hadn't expected me to produce that much evidence.
She was still grasping at straws: "So what if you've got all that? You're just taking advantage of the fact that we didn't have enough proof!"
Roland puffed up his chest, equally shameless: "Did I force her to spend money on me? Did I force her to bail me out? She did it all on her own! But the house and the demolition money belong to our family. If there's a divorce, she leaves with nothing!"
The brazen remarks from mother and son drew a wave of angry murmurs from the gallery, and the courtroom teetered on the edge of chaos.
After a moment, the presiding judge read the verdict.
"Given that the plaintiff's claims are substantiated, and that neither party holds real estate under their joint names, there is no property to divide..."
The judge paused, his expression solemn.
"The court hereby rules that the marriage between Jonathan Parsons and Flora Swanson is dissolved. Case closed."
All three of them froze. They stared at each other, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, before the words finally sank in.
Jonathan's brow furrowed tight. "Your Honor, that's it? What about the demolition payout? We have five million dollars in demolition compensation that hasn't been split!"
The judge glanced down at the file and shook his head.
"The property was purchased by Ms. Swanson before the marriage. The demolition compensation is registered entirely under Flora Swanson's name. What does any of that have to do with marital assets?"
