Chapter 12 - THE BOY WAS NEVER THE HEIR
Brooke agreed to meet.
Not with me alone.
Her attorney insisted on being present.
So did Evelyn.
Detective Mercer watched from behind the glass.
Brooke entered wearing jeans and a gray sweater.
No designer dress.
No perfect makeup.
No smug smile.
She looked tired.
I didn’t care.
She sat across from me.
“You got my messages.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know Victoria lied to Dominic.”
“No.”
I leaned back.
“I know all of you lied to each other.”
Brooke looked down.
“That’s fair.”
I almost laughed.
“Don’t try to become reasonable now.”
“I’m trying to survive.”
“There.”
I nodded.
“That I believe.”
Her attorney shifted.
“Ms. Sterling—”
I held up my hand.
“If she wants anything from me, she talks.”
Brooke looked at him.
Then back at me.
“Victoria knew Liam wasn’t Dominic’s.”
“For seventeen months.”
“Yes.”
“Why keep pretending?”
“Because Dominic didn’t know.”
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“Who is Liam’s father?”
“A man I dated before I met Dominic.”
“Does he know?”
“No.”
“Does Liam?”
“No.”
My stomach turned.
Another child surrounded by adults lying about his identity.
“What did Victoria want?”
Brooke rubbed her hands together.
“At first?”
“Yes.”
“She wanted Dominic to believe he had another son.”
“Why?”
“To separate him from you.”
I stared.
“She knew he was insecure about the company.”
“She knew you had all the real power.”
“She thought if Dominic built a new family, he would finally divorce you.”
“And then?”
“She learned about the trust.”
“Leo’s?”
“And the Sterling will.”
Brooke nodded.
“She became obsessed.”
“But Liam didn’t qualify.”
“I told her that.”
“When?”
“After the DNA test.”
“What did she say?”
Brooke’s face changed.
“She said blood could be fixed.”
I went still.
“What does that mean?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Brooke.”
“I swear.”
Her voice shook.
“She said there were ways to make legal families more important than biological ones.”
“Adoption?”
“Maybe.”
“If Dominic adopted Liam?”
“She thought she could challenge the will.”
Evelyn spoke.
“She would lose.”
Brooke looked at her.
“Victoria didn’t believe that.”
Of course not.
Victoria had spent her life believing rules changed when she became angry enough.
“What did she need Leo declared incapable for?”
“Control.”
“Of his trust?”
“Yes.”
“And to make him look unsuitable as the Sterling heir.”
“Why?”
“Because she thought if Leo was damaged enough, Dominic would agree to disinherit him voluntarily wherever possible.”
I felt sick.
“He was three.”
“I know.”
“You helped.”
Brooke looked down.
“I know.”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“Look at me.”
She did.
“You watched her damage him because you wanted my place.”
Tears appeared in her eyes.
“Yes.”
“You let her take his food.”
“Yes.”
“You let her lock him away.”
“Yes.”
“You put medication in his juice.”
Brooke’s mouth trembled.
“Once.”
“Once is enough.”
“I stopped after that.”
“You didn’t call anyone.”
“No.”
“You didn’t call me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I hated you.”
The room went quiet.
Finally.
A clean answer.
No excuse.
No manipulation.
Just ugliness.
Brooke continued.
“I hated you before I met you.”
I stared.
“Victoria talked about you constantly.”
“She said you made Dominic feel small.”
“She said everything in the house belonged to you.”
“The company belonged to you.”
“The cars belonged to your holding company.”
“Even the art belonged to your family trust.”
“She said Dominic had nothing that was truly his.”
I almost laughed.
“He had a family.”
Brooke’s eyes filled.
“I know that now.”
“No.”
“You know you lost.”
She flinched.
I continued.
“If Victoria’s plan had worked, you’d still be calling my son an animal.”
Brooke looked down.
She didn’t deny it.
I asked the final question.
“Why are you helping now?”
“Because Victoria plans to blame everything on me.”
“That’s not enough.”
“She has another set of recordings.”
“What recordings?”
Brooke swallowed.
“Of Dominic.”
My stomach tightened.
“Doing what?”
“Arguing with Leo.”
“We have those.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“These are worse.”
I felt cold.
“How much worse?”
“Victoria provoked them.”
“What do you mean?”
“She would keep Leo awake.”
“Make him cry.”
“Then call Dominic downstairs when he was exhausted.”
“Why?”
“To record him losing his temper.”
I closed my eyes.
More leverage.
“Did Dominic hit Leo?”
Brooke hesitated.
My eyes opened.
“Did he?”
“No.”
I exhaled.
“But once he grabbed him.”
“Where?”
“His shoulders.”
“What happened?”
“He shouted.”
“What did he say?”
Brooke looked sick.
“He said he wished Leo would disappear for one night.”
I felt my chest crack.
“Did Leo hear?”
“Yes.”
Of course he did.
“Where are the recordings?”
“Victoria has them.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
I stood.
Brooke reached across the table.
“There’s more.”
I stopped.
“Of course there is.”
“She recorded you too.”
I frowned.
“I was in Singapore.”
“Phone calls.”
My blood went cold.
“What calls?”
“Conversations with Dominic.”
“About the company?”
“About Leo.”
I stared.
Brooke continued.
“She edited them.”
“What do you mean?”
“She cut sentences together.”
“To make it sound like you didn’t want him.”
My hands tightened.
“Give me an example.”
Brooke swallowed.
“You once said, ‘I can’t come home every time Leo cries.’”
I remembered.
I had said it.
But not like that.
Dominic had called during a critical Singapore negotiation.
He said Leo cried after hearing my voice.
I told Dominic we needed a better routine because I couldn’t fly thirteen thousand miles every time Leo cried.
Then I booked a flight home three days later.
Brooke continued.
“Victoria cut everything around it.”
“She kept only that sentence.”
My stomach turned.
“What else?”
“You said, ‘He needs to stop depending on me for everything.’”
I remembered that too.
Leo had refused to sleep unless I stayed on video.
I had said he needed to stop depending on me for every bedtime because it was exhausting him.
Context.
Everything lived in context.
Victoria had spent two years removing it.
“She planned to use those recordings?”
“In court.”
“When?”
“When you finally came back.”
I laughed bitterly.
“So she always knew I would.”
Brooke looked at me.
“No.”
“What?”
“She thought you’d come back earlier.”
I stared.
“She kept waiting.”
“For what?”
“For you to notice.”
The sentence hit harder than I expected.
Brooke continued.
“Every month you stayed away, Victoria became more confident.”
“She kept saying, ‘See? Clara cares about the company more.’”
I looked down.
There was that piece of truth again.
The weapon I couldn’t destroy.
I had stayed.
Then Brooke said something quieter.
“But Dominic stopped you from noticing.”
I looked up.
“He deleted messages.”
“What messages?”
“From Elena.”
“From the gardener.”
“From one of the cleaners.”
“People tried to tell you.”
My throat tightened.
“How?”
“Email.”
“Voice messages.”
“Dominic intercepted some.”
“Victoria got others.”
“How do you know?”
“I watched them.”
My eyes burned.
“You watched people try to help my son.”
“Yes.”
“And did nothing.”
“Yes.”
I stood.
The meeting was over.
Brooke spoke quickly.
“I can give you names.”
I stopped.
“Do it.”
“I want immunity.”
Detective Mercer entered.
“That isn’t Mrs. Sterling’s decision.”
Brooke’s face fell.
Mercer sat down.
“But cooperation matters.”
For the next four hours, Brooke gave names.
Employees.
Doctors.
A notary.
A public relations consultant.
A private investigator Victoria hired to track my schedule.
Then one name made Evelyn freeze.
“Say that again.”
Brooke looked at her notes.
“Martin Cole.”
I knew Martin.
He was a board member.
One of the oldest.
One of my father’s friends.
“What did Martin do?”
Brooke looked at me.
“He gave Victoria internal information.”
“What information?”
“Your travel.”
“Your voting agreements.”
“Your estate plan.”
My stomach turned.
Martin knew details almost no one else did.
“Why?”
“She paid him.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
Evelyn immediately opened her phone.
The betrayal had entered the boardroom.
Again.
By midnight, we discovered Martin had sold confidential information for more than four years.
Not just about me.
About acquisitions.
Negotiations.
Succession planning.
He had helped Victoria prepare for a future without me.
A future where Dominic controlled Sterling.
The next morning, the board removed him.
Then he disappeared.
His phone went dead.
His wife claimed she hadn’t seen him.
His bank accounts showed a large transfer six hours earlier.
Five million dollars.
From an offshore company connected to Victoria.
That afternoon, police found his abandoned car at O’Hare.
No Martin.
No luggage.
No phone.
But security footage showed him boarding a private aircraft.
Destination unknown.
And the aircraft was registered to a company I recognized immediately.
One Dominic had sold three years earlier.
At least, that was what the paperwork said.
I called Evelyn.
“Who owns it now?”
She checked.
Then went silent.
“Evelyn.”
“The registered owner is a shell company.”
“Beneficiary?”
Another pause.
“Leo Sterling.”
I stared at her.
“My four-year-old owns a private jet?”
“No.”
May you like
Her eyes hardened.
“Someone has been hiding assets in his name.”
