Chapter 8 - Jenna’s Biggest Mistake
Jenna’s lawsuit demanded seventy-five thousand dollars.
Medical expenses.
Emotional distress.
Lost income.
Humiliation.
When Olivia read the complaint aloud, I almost admired the creativity.
According to Jenna, I attacked her “without meaningful provocation.”
The phrase was so absurd I had to laugh.
Olivia didn’t.
“This is good.”
“How is being sued good?”
“Because now we get discovery.”
I stared at her.
She smiled for the first time in days.
“If Jenna claims emotional and financial damages, we can request relevant records.”
That included certain communications about the dinner.
Financial records connected to her alleged losses.
Messages between Jenna and witnesses.
Potentially even information connected to JMH Consulting.
Jenna had opened a legal door she probably assumed would frighten me.
Instead, Olivia walked through it.
Two weeks later, the first batch of records arrived.
Most were useless.
Then we found a group text.
FAMILY BUSINESS.
Participants: Diane, Mark, Jenna.
The messages went back more than two years.
Some were ordinary.
Birthday plans.
Holiday dinners.
Complaints about relatives.
Then we searched my name.
There were hundreds of results.
Rachel won’t agree.
Get Mark to handle her.
She thinks the business money is hers.
Keep her calm until the refinance.
Don’t let her see the bank letter.
And one message from Jenna six months earlier.
If she ever leaves, we make sure she leaves with nothing.
I stared at the screen.
Olivia kept scrolling.
Then we found a photograph of a folder.
My credit report.
Sent by Mark.
Diane responded.
Score is high enough.
Jenna sent a laughing emoji.
I stopped breathing for a second.
They had been discussing my financial identity as if it belonged to them.
Then came the message that made Olivia sit upright.
Diane wrote:
Once the loan clears, transfer 120 to Jenna and the rest covers the company debt.
Company debt?
“What company?” I asked.
We searched.
The answer appeared in another message.
Bennett Development Group.
Mark’s father’s old construction company.
The business supposedly closed years earlier.
Apparently, it hadn’t.
It had accumulated massive tax debt.
Diane had been trying to keep it alive secretly.
And my money had been feeding it.
Jenna’s boutique had received payments too.
So had the lake house.
Mark had used my company as the family’s private rescue fund.
I felt humiliated.
Then angry.
Then unexpectedly relieved.
Because the mystery finally made sense.
Why my profits always felt smaller than they should.
Why Mark resisted outside accountants.
Why Diane panicked whenever I talked about selling the house.
Why Jenna constantly reminded me that I was “lucky” Mark tolerated my independence.
They weren’t afraid of losing me.
They were afraid of losing access to me.
Olivia leaned back.
“There’s something else.”
She opened a bank transfer.
The receiving account belonged to a company called Northstar Property Services.
Owner: Jenna Bennett.
Amount: $62,000.
Purpose: Renovation advance.
I knew the address listed on the invoice.
It wasn’t a business.
It was Jenna’s house.
The kitchen I had admired at Christmas.
The marble counters she bragged about.
The custom cabinets.
I had paid for them.
Without knowing it.
The lawsuit suddenly felt like a gift.
May you like
Jenna had demanded compensation from me.
Instead, she had handed us the map to everything they stole.
