Chapter 2 - THE PATERNITY TEST HAD NEVER TESTED ARTHUR
Arthur caught Diego before he reached the gate.
Not with a punch.
Not with some dramatic fight.
He simply grabbed his brother’s arm and said:
“Tell me Carmen is wrong.”
Diego said nothing.
That silence destroyed more than violence could have.
Selina began crying.
Beatrice demanded the report.
She read it and immediately attacked the easiest person in the garden.
“The housekeeper stole private medical records.”
Carmen lifted her chin.
“No.”
She produced the receipt.
“You left this in a coat pocket, Mr. Diego. I was told to take the coat to the cleaners.”
Then she pulled out a second document.
“This came later.”
It was the order confirmation for the original home paternity kit Arthur had seen.
The one supposedly proving a 99.9% probability that he was Mateo’s father.
Customer:
Diego Vance.
Delivery address:
A private mailbox in Evanston.
Arthur stared.
“I took that test.”
Selina covered her face.
No.
He hadn’t.
The kit had never been legally supervised.
Arthur had swabbed himself at Selina’s apartment.
Then Selina told him she would package the samples because Mateo was frightened and she wanted to finish the process after Arthur left.
The sample labeled ARTHUR VANCE had never been Arthur’s.
Diego substituted his own.
The lab compared Diego’s DNA with Diego’s son.
Naturally, it declared a match.
Arthur looked physically ill.
“You knew?”
Selina was crying openly now.
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“From the beginning.”
Beatrice stepped backward.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
The denial sounded different.
Not shocked.
Afraid.
Arthur noticed.
“You knew too?”
“No.”
“Mother.”
“I knew there were questions.”
“What questions?”
Beatrice’s answer came carefully.
“Selina told me there had been someone before you.”
Someone.
Her other son.
Carmen laughed bitterly.
“You knew about Elena.”
Selina stared at Beatrice.
Now it was her turn to look betrayed.
“You said she didn’t know.”
Beatrice’s face drained.
Arthur looked from one woman to the other.
“What does my mother know about a six-year-old girl?”
Carmen opened the yellow envelope again.
Inside were money-order receipts.
Monthly payments.
$1,200.
Then $1,500.
Then $2,000.
Sent to the aunt raising Elena.
Sender on every receipt:
B. Vance.
Beatrice.
For six years, she had quietly paid to keep Diego’s daughter away from the family.
A girl.
A granddaughter.
Hidden.
Then when the same son fathered a boy, Beatrice had helped turn that boy into Arthur’s heir.
Arthur’s voice became barely audible.
“You paid to hide Elena because she was a girl.”
Beatrice snapped:
“I was protecting the company.”
That sentence told every person in the garden exactly how much a granddaughter was worth to her.
Then Arthur looked at Carmen.
“Does Mariana know?”
“Not yet.”
He reached for his phone.
Carmen stopped him.
“There is something else she needs to know first.”
She pulled one final page from the envelope.
A board notice.
Vance Fine Furniture.
Emergency shareholder meeting.
Scheduled for the following morning.
Purpose:
Recapitalization and issuance of new voting shares.
May you like
Mariana owned forty-three percent of the company.
And while she was flying to Boston with four daughters, Arthur’s family was preparing a vote that could reduce her ownership to less than twenty percent.
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