Chapter 2 - THE PAYMENT WITH JULIAN'S NAME
Julian did not sleep that night.
By midnight, the west wing of the mansion had become an investigation room.
Vanessa stayed because leaving would look guilty.
Camila stayed because Julian told her he would not stop her from taking Rosie, but if she left before they secured copies of the evidence, he would assume she intended to destroy it.
Camila hated the threat.
She respected the logic.
That was the problem with Julian. Even when he was controlling, he was rarely careless.
Rosie slept upstairs with the night nanny, a woman Camila trusted.
Julian placed the old payment notice on his desk.
“The authorization is real formatting,” he said.
Camila folded her arms.
“So was the money.”
“I’m not disputing that.”
Vanessa stood near the fireplace.
“You authorized hundreds of private-office payments during that period. Your father was dying. You signed batches without reading every line.”
Julian turned toward her.
“That sounded rehearsed.”
“It sounded accurate.”
It was.
Three years earlier, Thomas Hale had been in hospice. Julian had been running Hale Meridian, fighting two shareholder lawsuits, and repairing his engagement to Vanessa after a humiliating public breakup.
He had signed things too quickly.
That truth made denial impossible.
Camila put another paper on the desk.
A letter printed on Hale stationery.
Julian read it.
Ms. Ortiz,
Mr. Hale acknowledges your claim but does not wish to establish a personal or parental relationship. The enclosed payment is made without admission of paternity or liability. Continued contact will be treated as harassment.
His jaw tightened.
“Who delivered this?”
“A courier.”
“Name?”
“I didn’t ask for his résumé while vomiting into a sink.”
Vanessa shot her a look.
Camila returned it.
Neither woman was willing to be reduced to the injured wife or frightened maid.
Julian noticed.
“Why come work here?” he asked.
Camila’s shoulders stiffened.
“There it is.”
“It’s a reasonable question.”
“I needed money.”
“You had one hundred twenty-five thousand.”
“My mother had pancreatic cancer.”
Silence.
Camila continued.
“Treatment, home care, debt. Most of it was gone before Rosie turned two.”
Julian’s expression changed, but Camila did not let sympathy rescue him.
“I also came because I wanted to know whether that letter was really yours.”
“So you deliberately entered my house.”
“Yes.”
Vanessa laughed softly.
“Finally.”
Camila looked at her.
“You hired me.”
Julian turned.
“What?”
Vanessa did not flinch.
“The staffing agency sent five profiles. I selected Camila.”
“Why?”
“She had excellent references.”
Camila’s voice sharpened.
“You knew my name.”
Vanessa’s gaze stayed steady.
“I knew there had been a Camila Ortiz at the Harbor gala. I did not know this was the same woman until you arrived.”
“That is a convenient distinction,” Julian said.
“It is also true.”
Julian opened his laptop.
He pulled archived private-office records.
The payment existed.
Not only that.
It had been approved through his executive token.
His token required a biometric confirmation or an emergency delegated key.
Only three people had held delegated authority that month.
Julian.
His dying father, Thomas.
And Vanessa, temporarily authorized after Julian spent forty-eight hours at the hospital.
Vanessa saw the access list.
“So now you think I forged it.”
“I think one of us did.”
Camila leaned forward.
“Or all of you knew and decided the maid was cheaper than the scandal.”
Julian’s face hardened.
“I did not know you were pregnant.”
Camila studied him.
For the first time, she believed he might be telling the truth.
That frightened her more than believing he had abandoned Rosie.
Because if Julian had not sent the money, someone else had controlled both of their lives.
At one in the morning, Julian suggested a DNA test.
Camila immediately refused.
Vanessa noticed too quickly.
Julian did too.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because if she is yours, I lose control of what happens next.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“And if she isn’t, you’ll decide I came here to trap you.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“But you came searching for proof.”
“Yes.”
Julian sat back.
“Then we test.”
Camila hesitated before nodding.
“I choose the lab.”
“Two labs.”
Vanessa frowned.
“That is excessive.”
Julian looked at his wife.
“So was paying a pregnant woman with my identity.”
The first test was arranged through a private medical service Vanessa recommended because it could collect samples discreetly at home.
The second Julian arranged himself without telling either woman.
Two days later, the first result arrived.
Probability of paternity: 0.00%.
Vanessa exhaled.
Camila stared at the paper.
Julian did not move.
Then he noticed the lab’s parent company printed in tiny letters at the bottom.
Northstar Clinical Holdings.
He knew that name.
Vanessa’s brother owned twelve percent of Northstar.
Julian looked up.
May you like
Vanessa’s relief vanished.
And Julian quietly deleted the email before telling either woman that another sample was already being tested somewhere else.
Related Stories
