Chapter 2 - THE LETTERS
Vance called Arthur Bell before the SUV disappeared.
“I need you at my apartment.”
“It’s almost ten.”
“Then you’re already late.”
Lila followed him into the Maybach.
“Those children could belong to anyone.”
“They’re mine.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Maddie said they are.”
Lila folded her arms.
“So now she’s honest?”
Vance turned toward her.
“What does that mean?”
“You told me she was unstable.”
He had.
He had used that word because it made leaving sound less ugly.
“She was going through fertility treatments.”
“And blaming you every time they failed.”
He stared through the window.
“No. I said that, too.”
Arthur arrived forty minutes later carrying a leather folder and the weary expression he used when protecting rich men from themselves.
Vance didn’t offer him a drink.
“Maddie sent certified letters.”
Arthur set the folder down.
“During the divorce, all communication went through our office.”
“Where are they?”
“I’d have to check.”
“Check now.”
Arthur hesitated.
That hesitation told Vance more than an answer would have.
“You knew she was pregnant?”
“I received a claim.”
“A claim?”
“There was no verified paternity information.”
“She was my wife. We were doing IVF.”
“Your mother instructed us to avoid direct contact.”
Vance went still.
“My mother doesn’t employ you.”
“She was coordinating while you were overseas.”
“Did you tell me?”
Arthur looked toward Lila.
Vance followed his gaze.
Lila’s face had gone blank.
“Why are you looking at her?”
“She was copied on some correspondence.”
Lila stood.
“I handled your schedule. That’s all.”
“Did you see the letters?”
“I saw a lot of things.”
“Answer me.”
“One,” she snapped.
“I saw one letter. It sounded like another attempt to pull you back.”
Arthur opened his laptop.
Minutes later, the printer in Vance’s study began running.
Three letters.
Delivery confirmations.
A request for acknowledgment.
In the first, Maddie had written that the transfer had worked.
In the second, she had enclosed an ultrasound report.
In the third, she had stopped asking him to return.
You don’t have to love me. But our children deserve to know you were given a choice.
Vance read that sentence twice.
Then he found the handwritten note attached to the scanned file.
No action required. VC aware.
His initials.
Not his handwriting.
“Who wrote this?”
Arthur swallowed.
Before he answered, Vance’s phone lit up.
His mother.
May you like
Then a message appeared beneath her name.
Do not contact Maddie again until we speak. You have no idea what you’re walking into.
