I documented private banking relationships in New York and Zurich, and I separated shared assets into a different section that included joint real estate and investment accounts.
I wrote until midnight, and when I closed the notebook, I understood something important.
Christopher believed he was building a case against me.
He had no idea I was building a fortress.
Over the next month, I moved quietly and deliberately, scheduling meetings under the pretense of restructuring my foundation while transferring ownership of certain entities into protected trusts tied to pre marital clauses.
I hired a corporate attorney in Manhattan under my maiden name, which was Avery Collins, and he did not ask unnecessary questions because discretion was part of his profession.
Meanwhile, I discovered hidden accounts in Nevada and shell corporations with vague descriptions that concealed financial movements, along with email drafts that attempted to frame my spending as erratic.
I did not confront Christopher, because confrontation would have warned him before I was ready.
Instead, I documented everything.
One weekend, while he played golf with investors, I installed a discreet audio recorder in his home office, and within days I captured a conversation that confirmed everything.
“I’ll file first,” he said confidently during a call. “She won’t see it coming, and we will frame it carefully so the judge questions her credibility from the beginning.”
I listened to that recording in my car near Pike Place Market while rain tapped steadily against the windshield, and after replaying it twice, I forwarded it to my attorney with a single message.
Proceed.
The first move I made was invisible.
An anonymous investment firm filed a lawsuit against one of Christopher’s Arizona developments, alleging breach of contract and freezing a significant portion of project capital.
When he came home that night, he was furious and pacing.
“Someone is targeting my project, and this is strategic sabotage,” he said, his voice tight with frustration.
I handed him a glass of whiskey and replied, “That sounds exhausting, and you should try to rest before you burn out.”
Two weeks later, while he traveled to Arizona to manage the situation, I filed for divorce in King County Court, and my petition included the email draft, the audio recording, and financial documentation that demonstrated deliberate deception.