#felonygirlshit. 🗣️ you’re a danger to society & families everywhere.

for the record,
for the court,
for the firm,
for those lawyers stalking me,
for anyone confused about my motives—
let me say this
as slow as possible:

i never had a vendetta
against this girl.
or my fucking husband.
i didn’t even clock her as a threat.
because i genuinely thought
she was just that pathetic.
like—
i thought she was one
of those girls who orbit men
who are definitely hotter than them
and live for the fantasy
of “being different” because he
calls her “sheriff” in the
pyramid scheme
insurance sales office.
it was embarrassing.
not threatening.

that’s why i never targeted her.
that’s why i didn’t warn her
to back the fuck off—
and listen—
i also stupidly assumed
they worked in, idk,
an actual supervised environment?
not some midlife-crisis fucking frat den
where desperate-ass supervisors
mock protective orders
like it’s open mic night.
”yo ain’t she hostile?”

like sorry,
i didn’t realize the office culture
was “ha ha she almost died, bro 😂”
and the only HR training
was how to hide a personal relationship
that nearly got a client—
a pregnant woman
fucking murdered.

get a better hobby.
seriously.
try sudoku.
fucking knitting,
reading up on what a
fucking fiduciary is—
or dying quietly.

but this bitch?

lol.
i literally bought her christmas gifts.
what did she get me?
lol nothing.
just my husband’s
d*ck on demand
and a fresh round
of financial sabotage.

yo.

i was days from giving birth.
she was my assigned
financial representative.
and she didn’t so much
as send a fucking text message.
no “congratulations.”
no office acknowledgment.
not even a fucking email,
not even a cursory
hey i saw your pregnancy update
that i stalk daily on your insta
about being in the ER
9 days before labor—
from “falling down the stairs”
are you fucking ok?

nah, she just
hits up my husband—
and when she walked
straight into my condo—
my actual fucking home—
to hold my newborn child
she didn’t bring
a single thing for me.
no card.
no gift.
no care.
bro i stayed in
my bedroom, full-ass
healing from a dv assault + c-section.

while my friends are like,
they don’t even work together anymore?
why is she here?
not for you?

fuck if i know—
northwestern mutual denver
says this shit is normal.

bro i think she venmo’ed
my husband some money
for my birth—
LMFAO.
sent him a lil something
for himself—
something he really wanted
off my registry.
while my active fiduciary.

but nah,
she held my baby.
while i was in the back room
recovering from a traumatic c-section.
while she was only texting my husband.
while i was bleeding,
stitched,
recovering,
dying inside and outside—
and she was acting like she was blood.

and in that exact time frame?
like right in between
“about to give birth”
and
“about to flee the state
to escape a man who almost killed me”?

this bitch enrolled me
in every single insurance policy.
my own.
my husband’s.
my baby’s.

she signed me up
with zero disclosure,
zero welcome meeting,
zero independence,
zero onboarding call.
while knowingly maintaining
a personal fucking relationship
normalized as professionalism
by an entire fucking firm—
with the man who was actively abusing me.

so that being said…
babe, listen—
let's play a quick game called:

✨ "how fucked is your future, exactly?" ✨

let’s run back to november 2023.
you're sitting cozy at your cubicle,
facetiming a married coworker
who’s in my fucking car
secret meet-ups paid
for by my fucking credit card?
while you’re hyping him up,
encouraging him—
iconic, right?
super fucking tragic.

meanwhile, at home,
i'm figuring out why my card
has $800 in mysterious cash advances.
why his phone goes dark
at fucking eight pm to midnight,
and why his office hours
look like your fucking apartment.

🎤🔥

babe—
it smells like fraud.

because?

with zero actual sales,
not funneled
directly through you.

including my own fucking policy.
because babe?
i filled out that paperwork,
in september
via my fucking legal husband.

and he sat on it.
got weird and violent.
and then started getting
money transfers from you.
and ceased to enroll
a single fucking client?

damn.
now the irs is like,
bruh what?

baby,
that smells like full,
multi-tiered fraud.
hiding money,
from the legal wife.
hiding money,
from the fucking irs,
and your own fucking firm.

lol. nice.

and babe,
while you were busy
trying to be the cubicle-cool-girl
and cheering on the bro-shit-show
at the office—
you know what
your little boyfriend
that you forced yourself
into an indecent relationship with
was busy doing?

he was strangling his pregnant wife.
he was strangling me.
yeah, that's right—
like felony strangulation
of a pregnant woman
like murder level shit.
with your emotional
fucking encouragement.

and girl,
you knew exactly who i was.
you got a thrill from that, huh?
you knew exactly what you were doing.
you aided, abetted,
enabled a violent abuser
for some fucking junior-varsity
pathetic cubicle-ass romance
so embarrassing that your own firm
has already called you
an "awkward relationship."
and then literally went black.

LMFAO.

your entire pathetic existence—
me? taking your to court.
with my husband’s last name.
you? not married huh?
got that family name LOL.
so your last name is attached
to daddy’s generational wealth?
your instagram stalking sessions,
your financial license,
because?
seems you were
communicating with a full-on abuser
while actively surveilling the victim—
with zero disclosure
to the vulnerable fucking client?
while your firm laughed?

so your adorable little future?
in anything regulated—
just got burned
to the fucking ground.

as it fucking should be.
you shouldn’t be around clients.
you shouldn’t be around families.
you shouldn’t be around victims.
you should not be put in positions of power.

because guess what?
it’s not just lawsuits anymore, honey.
it's not just SEC investigations.
it's not just internal embarrassment.

it's fucking criminal.

and i’ve got screenshots,
payment logs,
receipts,
timelines,
witnesses who openly expressed
that your presence was always
crossing fucking lines.
but your firm fully endorsed and
allowed you to continue,
while i was a hostage.
baby,
a whole goddamn felony folder—
ready to land on the da or ada’s inbox
like the atomic fucking bomb
your entitled,
bland-ass personality
fully fucking deserves.

your name?
never gonna see peace again.
your career?
lol. good luck babe.
your reputation?
RIGHTFULLY,
a national fucking embarrassment.

listen.
i know now,
you tried to get me killed
inadvertently or directly,
because you were jealous.
you couldn’t actually have him.
so you watched as he beat me.
a quiet viewer with insider access.

it’s sick,
because now it really—
all makes sense.

so let me say this again:

🎤🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

🗣️ you are a danger to women.
🗣️ you should not have access
to people’s accounts, money, or families.

🗣️ you wielded your professionalism
as a safeguard
to get close
to my legal husband
while i was under active threat
of homicide while pregnant
and you were legally supposed to
act in my best fucking interests (!!!!!)

🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ and i will never
let you forget that.

because if you would do it to me?
oh, you would definitely do that shit again.

better pray daddy’s money
covers criminal defense attorneys, babe—
because that maiden name
is about to trend
for all the worst reasons.

so buckle up, princess.
justice isn’t blind—
she’s a vengeful bitch
with a binder of evidence
and absolutely zero mercy.

👩🏻‍⚖️☕️📂🔥🧃
#felonygirlshit