Chapter 3: The Secret Behind the Belly
I waited until Vanessa went to bed.
Not because I was afraid of confronting her.
Because I wanted to know what I was confronting her about.
At 11:42 p.m., I sat alone in my home office with the email Maya had found.
The house was silent except for the occasional creak of the heating system.
I read the message again.
Daniel had written about payments, medical documentation, and an arrangement that would supposedly make me stop asking questions.
There was an attachment.
Maya had printed only the first page.
I opened my laptop and searched my email for Daniel Brooks.
Nothing.
Then I searched Vanessa's name.
I found dozens of messages about furniture, holidays, insurance, and the supposed baby shower.
But one message stood out.
It had been sent to Vanessa from a private account.
The subject line was simply:
*Don't forget the deadline.*
The message contained a photograph of a bank transfer.
The amount was $85,000.
My heart began pounding.
I opened our joint account.
The transaction history showed that the money had been transferred from our savings account six weeks earlier.
The recipient was listed as D. Brooks Consulting.
I stared at the screen.
Eighty-five thousand dollars.
Money Vanessa had told me was being used for a renovation loan.
I had worked eighteen years to build those savings.
I had missed holidays, worked weekends, and taken extra shifts to make sure Maya would never have to worry about money.
And Vanessa had moved a substantial portion of it without telling me.
I heard footsteps behind me.
I closed the laptop.
Vanessa stood in the doorway wearing a silk robe.
“Why are you still awake?””
“Couldn't sleep.””
She looked at the papers on my desk.
“What are those?””
“Something I found.””
She walked closer.
“Marcus, we need to stop this.””
“Stop what?””
“Turning every little thing into an investigation.””
I leaned back.
“Eighty-five thousand dollars isn't a little thing.””
Her face went pale.
For a moment, she looked like someone who had walked into the wrong room.
Then she recovered.
“That was for an investment.””
“What investment?””
“Something Daniel arranged.””
“D. Brooks Consulting?””
She looked away.
“It's complicated.””
“Then explain it.””
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“You've never understood how money works outside your little salary.””
I stared at her.
My little salary.
The same salary that had paid for the house she lived in, the car she drove, and the designer handbags she posted online.
“Where did the money go?””
“It's being handled.””
“By Daniel?””
She didn't answer.
I stood.
“Vanessa, I need you to tell me the truth.””
She laughed bitterly.
“The truth? You want the truth?””
“Yes.””
“You never wanted another child until I came along.””
“That isn't true.””
“You were perfectly happy playing grieving father forever.””
I felt my hands curl into fists.
“Don't use Emily to justify this.””
Vanessa stepped closer.
“Your daughter was never going to accept me.””
“Maya is eleven.””
“She manipulated you from the beginning.””
I shook my head.
“No. She was a little girl who lost her mother.””
Vanessa's eyes flashed.
“And I was the woman who had to live with the ghost of her.””
The words hung in the air.
I stared at her.
Then I understood something I should have understood years earlier.
Vanessa had never been competing with Maya.
She had been competing with a dead woman.
And she had made my daughter pay for it.
I walked toward the door.
“I'm sleeping in the guest room.””
Vanessa grabbed my wrist.
“Marcus, don't do this.””
I pulled away.
“Don't touch me.””
Her face softened instantly.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.””
“Then what did you mean?””
She looked toward the stairs.
“Can we talk tomorrow? Without Maya listening?””
I shook my head.
“There's nothing you can say that requires hiding from my daughter.””
I left the room.
At the top of the stairs, Maya's bedroom door was open.
She was sitting on the floor beside her bed, holding the small black recorder.
“Dad?””
I crouched.
“Why aren't you asleep?””
“I heard you talking.””
I nodded.
“I'm sorry.””
She looked at me.
“Did you find out what happened to the money?””
I froze.
“How did you know about it?””
Maya looked uncomfortable.
“Vanessa told someone on the phone that she needed another payment.””
I felt cold.
“When?””
“Yesterday.””
I took her hand.
“Did you hear who she was talking to?””
She nodded.
“Daniel.””
I stared at her.
“What did she say?””
Maya looked down.
“She said the first payment was only to get the documents. The second payment would make everything disappear.””
I swallowed.
“Did she mention a date?””
“Tomorrow.””
I looked at the clock.
It was almost midnight.
Tomorrow was only a few hours away.
I returned to the office and opened my laptop.
This time, I didn't search for Vanessa's emails.
I searched our bank's transaction history.
There it was.
A scheduled transfer.
$40,000.
Set to be released at 9:00 a.m.
The recipient was the same consulting company.
I immediately called the bank's fraud department.
The representative asked me several security questions.
When she confirmed the transaction, I requested that the transfer be frozen pending investigation.
She explained that because the account was jointly held, additional verification might be required.
I provided the information she requested and asked for the case reference number.
Then I called my attorney, an old family lawyer named Robert Hayes.
He answered on the fourth ring.
“Marcus? It's nearly midnight.””
“I need help.””
His voice changed immediately.
“What's happened?””
I explained the recording, the fake pregnancy, the suspicious documents, and the money.
Robert remained silent until I finished.
Then he said, “Do not confront her about the transfer again until we understand the legal position.””
“I think she's working with Daniel.””
“Possibly. But we need evidence.””
“I have an email.””
“Send it to me. And keep the original recording safe.””
I looked toward Maya's bedroom.
“What about my daughter?””
“Keep her somewhere safe. Don't let Vanessa pressure her into signing or saying anything.””
I promised I would.
When I ended the call, I noticed a light coming from beneath the kitchen door.
Vanessa was awake.
I walked downstairs.
She was standing beside the counter, holding her phone.
On the screen was an open banking application.
She looked up.
“What are you doing?””
I stared at the phone.
“Checking something.””
Her eyes narrowed.
“Did you call the bank?””
I didn't answer.
She set the phone down.
“Marcus, listen to me. You have no idea what you're interfering with.””
“Then tell me.””
She took a step closer.
“Daniel is going to fix everything.””
“Why does he need forty thousand dollars to fix anything?””
Her face went completely still.
I watched her eyes move toward the staircase.
Then she whispered something that made my blood run cold.
“Because the woman who was supposed to pretend to be pregnant with me has changed her mind.””
I couldn't speak.
Vanessa pressed a hand against her forehead.
“I wasn't supposed to tell you that.””
I stared at her.
“The woman?””
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“The woman who was supposed to help with the pregnancy arrangement.””
“What arrangement?””
She shook her head.
“It's too late.””
“Vanessa, what arrangement?””
She looked directly at me.
And for the first time, she didn't bother pretending to cry.
“You think the baby was the lie,” she said.
“It wasn't.””
My heart hammered.
“Then what was?””
She picked up her phone.
“Daniel has the documents. He can explain.””
“I'm asking you.””
Vanessa's lips trembled.
Then she said:
“The baby was supposed to be yours on paper, Marcus. But the person who was supposed to give birth to it was never me.””
A sound came from the staircase.
Maya was standing there in her pajamas.
She had heard everything.
“Dad,” she whispered.
I turned toward her.
She was holding another photograph.
This one showed Vanessa standing outside the same clinic, beside a heavily pregnant woman.
May you like
On the back, in Maya's handwriting, were four words:
*That's the real mother.*
