Chapter 5 - Blood and LiesThe office went dead silent, save for the hum of the computer tower beneath the desk.
I stared at Eric, my mind struggling to assemble the shattered pieces of a puzzle I didn't even know we were playing.
“Julian Vance has a son?” I asked, my voice barely a breath. “Marcus was a Vance?”
“He was the illegitimate son Julian never wanted,” Eric said, pacing the length of the room like a caged animal, his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. “Julian paid off Marcus’s mother to keep him quiet thirty years ago and dumped him into the same foster system I ended up in. That’s how Marcus and I met. We shared a room in Akron when we were eight years old. We swore we’d survive that hell together.”
“And Marcus never told Julian?”
“Marcus hated him,” Eric spat bitterly. “He wanted nothing to do with Vance’s blood money. He built a quiet life working as an automotive mechanic in Bakersfield, married a sweet girl, and tried to forget who his father was. But when Marcus died in that crash... Julian’s private investigators must have caught wind of the hospital records. They found out Marcus had a son—Leo.”
A cold dread settled deep in the pit of my stomach.
“If Julian Vance finds out Leo is his grandson,” I whispered, connecting the terrifying dots, “he’ll use his billions and his political connections to strip custody away from you. He’ll take Leo just to spite you or mold him into a corporate heir.”
“He won't just take custody,” Eric said, stopping his pacing to look me dead in the eyes with a terrifying intensity. “Julian Vance hates me because my software company beat his conglomerate out of a multi-billion-dollar government contract two years ago. He has been trying to ruin me ever since. If he gets his hands on Marcus’s son—on my nephew—he will tear our lives apart just to prove he can crush a former foster kid.”
“Then we go to court,” I said firmly, stepping forward despite the baby sleeping against my chest. “We have emergency guardianship. We have the adoption paperwork underway—”
“It won't be enough,” Eric interrupted, running a hand over his face. “Julian owns half the judges and politicians in Southern California. If he files a contested paternity and grand-parental custody suit based on bloodlines, the courts will tie us up in litigation for years. And while we’re fighting in court, he could slap a emergency injunction on our home and take Leo away.”
“Not if we marry him to our family first,” a voice said from the doorway.
We both spun around.
Nancy Price, our sixty-two-year-old house manager, stood in the open doorway holding a stack of mail. Her usually gentle face was set with iron resolve.
“Nancy,” Eric blinked. “What did you say?”
“You’re looking at this like businessmen,” Nancy said, walking into the room and setting the mail down on the edge of the desk. “Julian Vance is a vulture, Mr. Mason. Vultures only attack when they smell weakness. But right now, you and Mrs. Mason are divided. You’re fighting each other while Vance is circling overhead.”
She looked at me, her eyes kind but unyielding.
“Mrs. Mason—Clara—you love that little boy, don't you?”
I looked down at Leo, who stirred slightly in my arms, his tiny hand curling into a fist against my sweater. I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “I do.”
“And you love your husband, even if he’s an idiot who keeps secrets when he’s scared,” Nancy added, shooting Eric a sideways glance that made him wince.
“Hey,” Eric muttered defensively, though he didn't argue.
“So here is what you’re going to do,” Nancy instructed, taking command of the room like a seasoned general. “We don't wait for Julian Vance to make the first move in court. We take the narrative. We go public with the guardianship. We file our adoption petition tomorrow morning on the front steps of the courthouse with every major news outlet in San Diego watching. And we let Julian try to explain to the public why a billionaire corporate raider is trying to steal an orphaned newborn from the foster brother who raised him.”
Eric stared at Nancy in stunned silence. A slow, incredulous smile began to spread across his face.
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“My God, Nancy,” Eric breathed. “That’s... that’s brilliant.”
“It’s not brilliant,” Nancy said briskly, turning toward the door. “It’s common sense. Now feed that baby, you two. You have a war to win tomorrow morning.”
