From Doormat to Doomsday Billionaire!

Chapter 10: three thousand an hour

“I’ve hired an attorney, Rhys”

Lexi’s voice came through the phone, cold and clipped. 

“I’ve filed a petition to reopen the division of our assets. The court needs somewhere to serve you. Text me your address.”

So she actually sued. Rhys was intrigued.

But of course she had. Greed had always been the only language she spoke fluently.

“Give me a minute. I’m hiring a lawyer too. From now on, if you have something to say, say it to him.”

He hung up just as she was about to scream.

He had neither the time nor the patience for games. 

But if she wanted a war in a courtroom, he would give her one. And he’d make sure she regretted every word of that petition.

***

That day, Rhys walked straight into the top divorce firm in Sydvale. He approached the receptionist—a stern looking lady with a proud face.

“I’d like to see Joshua Hearn.”

The receptionist shot him a glare, noting the plain jacket he wore, and the unremarkable wristwatch. 

“And you are?” She asked, raising a brow.

“Rhys Darby.”

“Mr. Darby, you’re aware of Mr. Hearn’s rate?”

He nodded.

“Three thousand an hour,” Rhys said. “I read the brochure.”

Her eyebrow raised. She had not expected this man in a cheap jacket to know that number, let alone nod at it.

“One second.” She said. 

She made a call— a short conversation—Then she stood.

“Please follow me.”

***

Joshua Hearn sat behind a glass-and-steel desk, mid-forties, wearing a perfectly tailored suit, and thin-framed glasses, with eyes sharp enough to catch a lie before it left your mouth.

“Mr. Darby.” He gestured to the chair. “Please sit.”

The receptionist hovered by the door. “Coffee?”

“No, thank you. I don’t expect to be here long.”

Rhys replied to her.

Once she left, Joshua steepled his fingers. “You seem to be in a hurry, Mr Darby. Let’s skip the preamble. How may I help you today?”

“I want you to work for me.” Rhys leaned back.

“I divorced my wife. Right after, I bought a lottery ticket and won millions. Now she’s suing, claiming I hid assets during the marriage.”

Joshua creased his brow.

“If both events carry clean timestamps, this is barely a case. Submit the evidence, and you walk. Honestly, Mr. Darby, you don’t even need me.” He said to Rhys.

“I know. I was going to stop there. But she wants to fight. So I’ve changed my mind.”

“Oh?” A flicker of interest crossed Joshua’s face. “What do you want, then?”

Rhys slid a folder across the desk.

“Before we married, my wife was sleeping with another man. She got pregnant. The boy isn’t mine. Here’s the paternity test.” 

Joshua took the report and read through it.

 “When I signed the divorce papers, I walked away from nearly everything. If she wants the court to reopen the settlement…”

Joshua slowly closed the report. “You want your share back.”

He completed the sentence.

“Every cent I’m owed. Plus damages for the lie, the affair and years of raising another man’s child.”

Joshua studied him. “You should know my fees are expensive. There’s a real chance whatever you recover won’t cover my bill.”

Joshua raised his own cup to drink some water.

Rhys chuckled.

“That won’t be a problem. The lottery prize was fairly substantial.”

“How substantial?”

“Five hundred million.”

The glass of water trembled in Joshua’s hand.

“Pfft!”

Water spilled everywhere.

And for several seconds, the most feared divorce attorney in Sydvale simply stared. Fairly substantial? This was a fortune!

Rhys calmly passed him a tissue.

“I’m told you’re the best in the city, and I want her whole family to pay.” He said to him.

A dry, bitter laugh escaped him.

“I married into that house as a live-in son-in-law. I handed over every paycheck and lived on a hundred dollars a month, and I swallowed all of it for my son. And then I learned he wasn’t mine.” He shrugged. 

“Even the nicest man has a breaking point. Don’t you agree, Mr Hearn?”

Joshua nodded slowly. He had heard a thousand sob stories in this office. This one came with a five-hundred-million-dollar footnote.

“Understood. I’ll take your case.”

“I have conditions.”

Joshua raised a brow.

“First, drag the trial out as long as the law permits, but no longer than three months. Second, bleed them for every legal dollar. Third, make sure the judge knows I plan to donate whatever we recover. I don’t want anyone thinking this is about the money.”

Rhys knew what he wanted.

The longer the lawsuit ran, the longer the Stowes would marinate in dread. But three months was the line. After that, it wouldn’t matter, because the world would be ice anyway. 

Rhys wanted them to taste the fear first, then watch every dollar disappear.

Joshua, however, found the request bizarre.

But a longer trial meant more billable hours. And hours were his favorite thing in the world.

That means more money!

“Done.” Joshua gave Rhys a handshake.

Within minutes, the paperwork was moving. Joshua barked instructions to his team. The first order of business was seeding rumors about Lexi’s affair across the city’s largest online forum. 

By nightfall, strangers would be arguing about her in comment threads.

And Joshua assigned a junior associate to keep Rhys informed.

Her name was Nancy Jean.

She was a tall, easily five-foot-seven elegant lady with sharp features and a composed, cool presence that drew a dozen glances as she escorted Rhys through the lobby. 

Her Black-framed glasses only sharpened the effect.

At the door, she handed him a card.

“Mr. Darby, I’m Nancy Jean. I’ll be assisting Mr. Hearn on your case. If you want an update, call me directly.”

“All right.”

Rhys saved the number on the spot.

Nancy hesitated for a moment, and then, quite uncertain , she blurted out.

“And it doesn’t always have to be about the lawsuit.”

Rhys looked up.

She heard herself. Her eyes widened as her cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

“I mean— legal questions! Anything legal! If you need help with anything else legal, you can call me for that too!”

If anything, the correction made it sound worse.

Nancy adjusted her glasses. She cleared her throat as her cheeks kept flaming red.

Rhys gazed at her, unable to tell whether she had genuinely misspoken… or whether she’d said exactly what she meant.

“I will call on you.” He said to her and left immediately.