“It is entirely within the jurisdiction of this court, Mr. Voss, under Section 402 of the Revised Uniform Fraudulent Transfer Act,” I countered, stepping out from behind my table with crisp, measured paces.
“Especially when the martial residence, four commercial properties, and fourteen million dollars in offshore liquid capital were funneled through that very entity to conceal marital assets from this tribunal.”
Arthur Hale jumped to his feet in the gallery, his face turning the color of an overripe plum.
“What the hell is she talking about?” Arthur roared, slamming his heavy hand onto the polished railing separating the gallery from the well of the court.
“Shut her up, Voss! She signed the damn waiver! She doesn’t own a penny of my company!”
The sharp crack of Judge Morrison’s wooden gavel exploded through the courtroom like a rifle shot.
“Mr. Arthur Hale, you will sit down and remain silent, or I will have the bailiff escort you to the holding cell for direct criminal contempt!” Judge Morrison warned, her eyes blazing with fury.
