“What was in the envelope she tried to take from you tonight, Maria?” I asked, my voice dropping to an icy tone.
“A copy of Noah’s birth certificate listing Andrew as the father, and a forensic accounting report I hired a private investigator to pull on Vanessa’s art gallery,” Maria revealed. “The gallery is a shell company, Mr. Daniel. It’s being used to launder money—millions of dollars that originally belonged to your family’s firm before Andrew vanished.”
I stood up slowly from the chair. My chest felt hollow, but my mind was clearer than it had been in years.
“Where is Noah right now?” I asked firmly.
“He’s with my sister, Rosa, in East Los Angeles,” Maria said, her voice tight with panic. “Mr. Daniel, please… if Vanessa knows about Noah, she knows he is the direct blood heir to Andrew’s portion of the family trust. She will do whatever it takes to protect her scheme.”
“She won’t touch him,” I said, setting my jaw. “Stay here. The hospital has security, but I will hire private guards to stand outside your door tonight.”
Je me suis retourné et suis sorti de la chambre d’hôpital, retrouvant le long couloir baigné de lumière. En regagnant le hall principal, mes poings se sont crispés le long de mon corps. Tout ce que j’avais construit, tout ce que je croyais savoir de ma famille et de la femme avec qui je comptais passer le reste de ma vie, reposait sur un tissu de mensonges mortels.
Vous aimerez peut-être
Quand je suis arrivée dans la salle d’attente, la chaise en vinyle où Vanessa était assise était vide. Sa tasse de thé en carton était froide sur la table d’appoint.
Elle était partie.
