Chapter 3 - The Served Papers at the Office
The next morning at 8:15 AM, Daniel was sitting behind his mahogany veneer desk at Midwest Industrial Equipment Supply off Interstate 270, sipping a medium dark roast from Starbucks and chatting with his regional sales manager about an upcoming tractor dealership contract.
He didn't expect the two men in dark charcoal suits walking through the glass double doors of the showroom.
Marcus’s junior associate, a sharp-eyed litigator named Thomas Vance, walked straight past the receptionist desk, bypassed the product brochures, and stopped directly in front of Daniel’s cubicle.
“Daniel Moretti?” Thomas asked crisply, holding out a thick manila folder.
Daniel looked up, blinking in confusion, his smile faltering. “Yes? Can I help you?”
“You’ve been served,” Thomas said, dropping the legal papers directly onto Daniel’s keyboard, burying his half-finished breakfast sandwich beneath seventy pages of certified court documentation. “You are officially named as the primary respondent in a petition for dissolution of marriage filed by Rachel Moretti in the Franklin County Domestic Relations Court.”
The surrounding salesmen in the open-plan office stopped talking. Several heads popped up over cubicle partitions to watch the drama unfold.
Daniel’s face drained of color in an instant. He snatched the top document off his keyboard, his eyes scanning the bold legal headings.
PETITION FOR DIVORCE – GROUNDS: ADULTERY, FINANCIAL FRAUD, MARITAL ABANDONMENT.
EMERGENCY RESTRAINING ORDER REGARDING RESIDENTIAL PROPERTY.
INJUNCTION ON JOINT ASSETS AND CREDIT ACCOUNTS.
“This is insane!” Daniel stammered, leaping to his feet, knocking his office chair backward against the partition wall. “She can't do this! We’re married! That house is marital property—we live there together!”
Thomas didn't flinch. He adjusted his titanium-framed glasses and pulled out a second laminated document.
“Actually, Mr. Moretti, according to the pre-marital property deed filed four years prior to your marriage, the residence at 4428 Willow Creek Lane is registered exclusively in Rachel Moretti’s sole name,” Thomas stated clearly, his voice carrying across the entire sales floor. “Furthermore, financial forensics have identified three distinct unauthorized cash withdrawals totaling $18,500 executed from joint savings accounts to fund events associated with Ms. Claire Moretti's business ventures. Those funds are subject to immediate civil recovery.”
Daniel stood there trembling, clutching the divorce papers as his coworkers whispered behind their partitions. His charming, easygoing veneer had completely shattered, replaced by the panicked realization that his comfortable lifestyle of subsidized mortgage payments and free housekeeping had just evaporated permanently.
Before Daniel could open his mouth to sputter another defense, his cell phone buzzed violently on the desk.
He glanced down at the screen.
It was my mother, Helen.
Daniel answered with a shaking hand, pressing the phone to his ear. “Helen? Listen, you won't believe what just—ing—she served me at the office! The lawyers are here!”
Helen’s voice wasn't filled with comforting maternal advice. It shrieked through the speaker loud enough for Thomas to hear every word.
“Daniel, where are you?! We’re sitting outside the house right now with a moving truck! The front door locks have been changed! A private security guard is standing on the front porch telling us we’re trespassing and threatening to tow our car!”
Daniel stared blankly at the phone receiver. “Changed the locks? What do you mean she changed the locks?”
“I mean your wife is insane!” Helen screamed, her voice cracking with pure rage. “She’s inside packing our clothes into garbage bags and throwing them off the front steps! Call her right now and make her open this door! Claire is crying in the backseat, and your father is threatening to break a window!”
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Thomas leaned in slightly, speaking clearly toward Daniel’s phone speaker.
“Tell your mother and your father that if they touch a single pane of glass on that property, the county sheriff will meet them before the towing company does,” Thomas said smoothly. “Have a productive workday, Mr. Moretti.”
