Chapter 7
Six years.
That’s how long Victoria had been stealing from me.
I’d thought it was three. But I’d been wrong. The first transfers had been small—fifty dollars here, a hundred there. Easy to miss when you’re busy running a business and raising a family.
But six years ago, something had happened.
I scrolled through the records, my heart pounding.
Six years ago, Sabrina had turned eighteen.
And that’s when the transfers had increased. Dramatically.
I leaned back in my chair, trying to understand.
Why would Victoria start stealing more money when Sabrina became an adult? What had changed?
Then I saw another pattern.
Every time Raymond had received money, something else had happened. A bill would be paid. A debt would be settled. A purchase would be made.
But not for Victoria.
For Raymond.
Car payments. Rent. Credit card bills. Even child support payments—for another child, from another relationship.
Victoria hadn’t just been stealing money for herself. She’d been paying Raymond’s way through life. For six years.
But why?
What hold did Raymond have over her?
I needed answers.
I called Eleanor.
“I need to see the full financial disclosure from Victoria,” I said. “Everything. Not just the bank accounts we already know about. Credit reports. Tax returns. Everything.”
“I’ll get it for you,” Eleanor said. “But Glenn, is this necessary? We already have a deal. She’s willing to sign the divorce papers and walk away.”
“Something isn’t right,” I said. “This goes deeper than an affair and some stolen money. I need to know the whole truth.”
Three days later, Eleanor sent over the documents.
I spent the entire evening going through them.
Victoria’s tax returns showed the income from her part-time job at a boutique. Nothing unusual there.
Her credit reports were clean. No large debts. No secret accounts.
But then I found it.
Buried in a stack of old bank statements from an account Victoria had closed years ago.
A transfer. For twenty thousand dollars.
Made six years ago.
To a law firm.
I looked up the firm’s name. They specialized in one thing:
Paternity suits.
My hands started to shake.
I called Eleanor immediately.
“I need you to find out everything you can about a case from six years ago,” I said. “Victoria Bennett vs. Raymond Carter. Paternity.”
There was a pause on the line.
“Glenn, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I need to know if Raymond is really Sabrina’s father,” I said.
The next few days were agonizing.
Eleanor worked her contacts. She filed motions. She pulled old court records.
And then she called me.
“Glenn,” she said, her voice serious. “I found the case. It was sealed, but I was able to get the records released due to the ongoing divorce proceedings.”
“And?”
“The paternity test was done six years ago,” she said. “When Sabrina turned eighteen. Victoria wanted Raymond to start paying child support retroactively. She thought if she could prove he was the father, she could get money from him.”
I held my breath.
“The results came back,” Eleanor said. “Raymond is not Sabrina’s biological father.”
The world tilted.
“What?” I whispered.
“The test was negative,” Eleanor said. “Raymond isn’t her father. Victoria knew this. She’s known for six years. And she never told anyone.”
I sat down heavily.
All those years. All those insults about Raymond being the “real father.” All that manipulation.
Victoria had known the truth all along.
“But then...” I said, trying to make sense of it. “Who is Sabrina’s father?”
“That’s the other thing,” Eleanor said. “The court ordered Victoria to disclose all potential fathers. She named three men. Raymond was one. The other two have since passed away. But...”
“But what?”
“There’s a note in the file from the judge,” Eleanor said. “He questioned why Victoria didn’t include you as a potential father. Her response was that you’d been out of town for work during the relevant period. But Glenn, I checked your old business records. You were home. You were in San Diego the entire time.”
My mind was reeling.
I thought back to when I’d first met Victoria. She’d been three months pregnant with Sabrina when Raymond left her. She’d told me the baby was his. I’d never questioned it. I’d loved Sabrina as my own from the moment I’d held her.
May you like
But what if...
What if Sabrina was really mine?
