Chapter 5 - THE EMBEZZLED INHERITANCE
“Get out of here, Mom,” Brandon said, his voice rising as he stood up from the stool. He stepped between Madeline and the bed where Luke was sleeping. “This is a hospital. My son is recovering.”
“Your son?” Madeline sneered, her lip curling. “He is not your son, Brandon. Richard has the official documentation from the state genetic registry. We filed an emergency query yesterday under the family’s estate protection clause.”
Richard Sterling stepped forward, opening his leather portfolio with a smooth, professional click. He pulled out a sheet of heavy, cream-colored paper with the gold seal of the state registry at the top.
“Mr. Vance,” Sterling said, his voice flat and empty of any human warmth. “Under the terms of your late grandfather’s trust, the distribution of the commercial real estate holdings—valued at fourteen million dollars—is strictly contingent upon the production of a biological heir of the Vance bloodline by your thirty-fifth birthday. That deadline is in exactly three weeks.”
The pieces of the puzzle began to tumble into place with a sickening speed.
The family trust. The fourteen million dollars.
Madeline had been managing the estate’s funds since her husband’s death ten years ago. She had always insisted that Brandon didn't need to worry about the details, that she and Richard were handling everything so he could focus on his career as an architect. But Brandon’s thirty-fifth birthday was the hard limit. On that day, the trust was legally required to undergo a full, independent audit before the assets could be transferred to Brandon and his "biological heirs."
“You’ve been taking the money, haven't you, Madeline?” I said, stepping forward, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “You’ve been embezzling from the trust. And if the audit happens, if the state looks at the books when Brandon turns thirty-five, they’ll see that half of the fourteen million is gone.”
Madeline’s face went completely still. The triumph in her eyes flickered, replaced for a fraction of a second by a cold, calculating panic. But she recovered quickly, smoothing her jacket with a slow, deliberate movement.
“What a creative imagination you have, Sarah,” she said, her voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. “But the law doesn't care about your theories. The law cares about biology. If Brandon has no biological heir by his birthday, the entire trust remains under my sole control for the rest of my life. And according to these hospital records, Luke is not his.”
“We will run our own tests, Mother,” Brandon said, his hand reaching out to grip my shoulder. He was shaking, but his voice was gaining a new, hard edge. “We will go to an independent lab. We will find out what is going on.”
“Go ahead,” Madeline said, turning toward the door. “Run your tests. Spend your savings on lawyers. But the clock is ticking, Brandon. In three weeks, the trust closes. And you will be left with nothing but a wife who lied to you and a child who doesn't carry a single drop of your blood.”
She walked out, the heavy door clicking shut behind her and Richard Sterling.
I turned to Brandon, my eyes filled with tears, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Brandon, I swear to you on my life, on Luke’s life... I have never been with another man. There is no other father. There cannot be.”
May you like
He looked at me, and for a long, agonizing moment, he didn't say a word. Then, he reached down, took my hand, and pressed his forehead against mine.
“I believe you, Sarah,” he whispered, his tears hot against my cheek. “I don't understand the science. I don't understand how this is possible. But I know you. And I know my son. We are going to find the truth.”
