Chapter 6: The Woman Behind the Agreement
Richard Barrett placed the leather folder on my grandfather's desk.
He didn't sit.
He didn't offer an explanation.
He simply looked at me and said, "You should have left this alone.""
I stared at him.
"You're going to have to be more specific. I've discovered quite a few things my family apparently wanted buried.""
Sloane stood beside the doorway.
Her face was pale.
"Dad, what is he talking about?""
Richard didn't look at her.
"Go home, Sloane.""
"No.""
His expression hardened.
"Now.""
She crossed her arms.
"I'm not a child.""
"Then stop behaving like one.""
I stepped between them.
"Don't speak to her like that.""
Richard gave me a cold smile.
"Interesting. You're suddenly concerned about how men treat women.""
I took one step toward him.
"Watch yourself.""
Vittorio struck the desk with his palm.
"Enough!""
The room fell silent.
My grandfather stood.
"This conversation concerns the family. Sloane has no reason to be involved.""
Sloane laughed bitterly.
"That's convenient. I'm apparently important enough to marry into this family but not important enough to know what everyone is hiding.""
Richard finally turned toward her.
"Your engagement to Dominic was never about romance.""
"I figured that out when he canceled the proposal.""
"It was about stability.""
"Whose stability?""
Neither man answered.
I looked at Richard.
"Tell me about Isabella.""
He opened the folder.
Inside were several documents, each neatly organized and stamped with the seal of a private law firm.
The first page was dated November 22, six years earlier.
The second was a financial agreement.
The third was a document concerning parental rights.
I read the heading.
*CONFIDENTIAL CUSTODIAL AND FINANCIAL ARRANGEMENT.*
My stomach tightened.
"What is this?""
Richard folded his hands.
"An agreement designed to prevent a complicated family situation from becoming a public crisis.""
I looked at him.
"You mean an agreement designed to steal my children.""
"That's an emotional interpretation.""
"It's an accurate one.""
He ignored me.
"Your relationship with Isabella was unstable. Your father had died. Your grandfather was dealing with several business difficulties. Four unexpected children would have complicated matters considerably.""
I stared at him.
"Unexpected?""
Richard cleared his throat.
"You know what I mean.""
"No. Explain it.""
He opened the document.
"Isabella agreed to raise the children independently. In exchange, she received financial support and protection from public exposure.""
"Did she sign this?""
"Yes.""
I scanned the final page.
There was a signature.
Isabella Hayes.
But something looked wrong.
I moved closer.
"Who witnessed this?""
Richard pointed to the bottom.
"Your grandfather and myself.""
"Where was it signed?""
"At our offices.""
"What date?""
"November twenty-second.""
I looked at him.
"Isabella was already in the hospital that day.""
His expression changed slightly.
I knew because I had spent my life learning to recognize weakness in powerful men.
"How do you know that?"" he asked.
I pulled the photograph from my pocket.
The one Isabella had given me.
"Because my sons were born on February fourteenth, and she was still living in Boston when she signed nothing.""
Richard's face hardened.
I looked at the signature again.
"Did you forge this?""
"Be careful.""
"Did you forge the mother's signature on a custody agreement involving four newborn children?""
Vittorio moved toward me.
"Dominic, you don't understand the legal circumstances.""
"Then explain them.""
Richard closed the folder.
"The agreement was intended to protect the children.""
"From whom?""
He looked at me.
"From you.""
I stared at him.
For a moment, the words didn't make sense.
Then I understood.
"You told her I was dangerous.""
"At the time, there were concerns.""
"What concerns?""
"Your involvement in the family business.""
I laughed.
"You mean the business you and my grandfather were running?""
Richard didn't respond.
Sloane stepped forward.
"Dad, what is he saying?""
Richard turned sharply.
"Not another word.""
"No. I want to know.""
She looked at me.
"Dominic, what happened?""
I took a breath.
"Six years ago, your father helped my grandfather separate Isabella from me. He was involved in a financial agreement that appears to carry a forged signature.""
Sloane looked at the folder.
Then at her father.
"Is that true?""
Richard said nothing.
She shook her head.
"Tell me it's not true.""
Vittorio stepped in.
"Richard acted in the family's best interests.""
Sloane's eyes filled.
"You're both disgusting.""
She turned and walked out.
Richard started after her.
I blocked his path.
"You're not going anywhere until you answer one question.""
He looked at me.
"What?""
"Where is my father?""
His expression changed.
Then he leaned closer.
"Your father is alive because he agreed to stay away.""
"From whom?""
"From you.""
I felt my chest tighten.
"Why?""
Richard's eyes flicked toward Vittorio.
"Because he knows what would happen if he came back.""
I looked at my grandfather.
He didn't deny it.
I lowered my voice.
"What did you do to him?""
Vittorio's expression hardened.
"I gave him a choice.""
"What choice?""
"Disappearing or watching the entire family collapse.""
I stared at him.
"Did you threaten to hurt me?""
"No.""
"Did you threaten Isabella?""
He looked away.
That was enough.
I picked up the folder.
"I'm taking this.""
Richard reached for it.
"That belongs to my firm.""
I held it away from him.
"Then you should have made sure the documents were legal.""
I walked out.
At 10:40 that night, I was sitting in my office with the custody agreement spread across my desk.
My attorney, Michael Grant, stood beside the window.
He had been handling my personal legal affairs for eight years.
Unlike the family lawyers, Michael had never worked directly for Vittorio.
He studied the document.
"This is serious.""
"Can it be challenged?""
"Absolutely. But we need the original and the complete file.""
"Assume the signature is forged.""
He looked up.
"Then whoever created this could face criminal consequences.""
"What about the money?""
"Those payments may be evidence of coercion, depending on what we can establish.""
I handed him the financial records.
"Can you trace the account?""
"Yes. But Dominic, I need to ask something.""
"Go ahead.""
"Did Isabella know about this document?""
"I don't think so.""
"Then why did she accept the payments?""
I stared at the wall.
"Because she believed my grandfather would hurt her children if she refused.""
Michael slowly nodded.
"That changes everything.""
I looked at him.
"I want the boys protected.""
"Legally?""
"Legally, physically, financially. Everything.""
"Do you want to file for custody?""
I shook my head.
"No.""
He seemed surprised.
"I want to establish paternity. I want to be involved in their lives. But I'm not going to drag four six-year-olds through a courtroom because I suddenly decided I deserve something.""
Michael gave a small nod.
"That's sensible.""
I looked down at the photographs.
"Can we arrange a private DNA test?""
"Only with Isabella's informed consent and proper procedures.""
"I'll ask her.""
Michael closed the folder.
"One more thing.""
"What?""
"Your grandfather has already contacted our office.""
I looked up.
"When?""
"This afternoon.""
"What did he want?""
"To know whether you were considering legal action.""
I laughed quietly.
"Of course.""
Michael hesitated.
"He also mentioned that Richard Barrett would be making a proposal.""
"What kind of proposal?""
"A financial settlement. A substantial one.""
I felt my jaw tighten.
"How substantial?""
"Five million dollars.""
I stared at him.
"Five million?""
"Apparently, in exchange for a full release of any claims connected to Isabella, the children, and the family trust.""
I stood.
"They want me to sign away my sons?""
"That's how I interpreted it.""
I walked to the window.
Five million dollars.
The same family that had paid Isabella to disappear now wanted to pay me to remain blind.
I turned around.
"Tell them no.""
Michael nodded.
"I expected that.""
"And Michael?""
"Yes?""
"Don't discuss this with anyone connected to the family.""
"Understood.""
The following afternoon, I returned to Isabella's apartment.
This time, I called before arriving.
She answered after the third ring.
"What?""
"I need to show you something.""
"I've had enough surprises this week.""
"I know.""
A pause.
"Five minutes?""
"Please.""
She sighed.
"Come up.""
When she opened the door, she looked exhausted.
There were grocery bags on the floor and a pile of children's laundry on the sofa.
A cartoon played in the living room.
The boys were sitting together, arguing about which superhero was strongest.
Isabella led me into the kitchen.
"What is it?""
I placed the custody agreement on the table.
Her face went pale.
"Where did you get that?""
"Richard Barrett.""
She sat down.
For several seconds, she didn't move.
Then she touched the signature.
"That's not mine.""
I nodded.
"I thought so.""
She looked up.
"I never signed anything like this.""
"Did Richard ever ask you to?""
"He brought papers once. I refused to sign them.""
"Why?""
"Because they said I would never be allowed to tell the boys who their father was.""
My hands tightened.
"Did you keep a copy?""
"No. He took them away.""
I showed her the financial agreement.
She studied it.
"That's the money.""
"Yes.""
"I never knew how much they were paying.""
"Twenty thousand a month.""
Her expression changed.
"What?""
"Every month for six years.""
She leaned back.
"I thought it was a fraction of that.""
I stared at her.
"What do you mean?""
"Your grandfather told me it was a small trust. He said the money came from an account your father had established before he died.""
My stomach turned.
"He told you my father left it?""
She nodded.
"I thought Anthony wanted to help the boys.""
I closed my eyes.
My grandfather had used my father's memory to manipulate her.
"Isabella, I'm sorry.""
She looked at me.
"For what?""
"For believing the worst of you.""
Her eyes filled.
"Do you know how many times I wanted to call you?""
I swallowed.
"No.""
"Every birthday. Every Christmas. Every time one of the boys got sick. Every time Noah asked why his friends had fathers who came to school events.""
She wiped her cheeks.
"I wanted to call you so badly that sometimes I would dial your number and just listen to it ring.""
I lowered my eyes.
"I would have come.""
"I know.""
"Then why didn't you?""
"Because I was afraid you would choose your grandfather.""
I looked at her.
"I wouldn't have.""
She laughed sadly.
"You did before.""
I had no defense.
Then she looked toward the living room.
"There's something else.""
"What?""
She hesitated.
"Your grandfather didn't just threaten me.""
I waited.
"He told me you had agreed to the arrangement.""
My stomach tightened.
"What arrangement?""
"He said you knew about the pregnancy. He said you had chosen the business and the engagement your family wanted over me and the babies.""
I stared at her.
"That's impossible.""
"He showed me a letter.""
"What letter?""
"One with your signature.""
I felt cold.
"What did it say?""
She looked directly at me.
"That you wanted no involvement in the children's lives.""
I gripped the table.
"Do you still have it?""
"No. He took it back.""
"Did you believe him?""
Her voice broke.
"I didn't want to.""
She took a breath.
"But then you never came.""
I couldn't speak.
She had been waiting.
Perhaps not every day.
Perhaps not every hour.
But somewhere inside her, she had been waiting for me to show up and prove my grandfather wrong.
And I never had.
I reached into my jacket and pulled out a photograph.
It showed the four boys at the restaurant.
"I want to be their father," I said.
She studied the photograph.
"Then start by being someone they can trust.""
"I will.""
"Don't promise things you can't control.""
"I won't.""
She looked down at the table.
After a long silence, she spoke.
"I'll agree to the DNA test.""
I felt a weight lift from my chest.
"Thank you.""
"But there are conditions.""
"Anything.""
"You don't bring your grandfather near them.""
"Agreed.""
"You don't use your money to impress them.""
"Agreed.""
"And you don't tell them you're their father until we've agreed on how to explain everything.""
I nodded.
"Agreed.""
She looked at me.
"And Dominic?""
"Yes?""
"If you disappear again, I will never let you come back.""
I met her eyes.
"I understand.""
For the first time, she didn't look away.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from Michael.
*Urgent. We received a call from a private laboratory. Someone requested access to the children's medical records using your name.*
I stared at the screen.
Another message followed.
*The request was made through a company owned by Richard Barrett.*
I looked at Isabella.
"Did anyone contact you about the boys' medical records?""
Her face went pale.
"No. Why?""
I showed her the message.
She immediately stood.
"Dominic, what does this mean?""
"I don't know yet.""
She walked toward the living room.
"Where are the boys' medical files?""
"In the drawer by the television.""
I followed her.
She opened the drawer and pulled out a folder.
Birth certificates.
Vaccination records.
Hospital paperwork.
Everything appeared to be there.
Then she stopped.
One document was missing.
The original hospital discharge summary.
She searched again.
Nothing.
"That can't be right.""
I looked at her.
"What?""
She turned the folder upside down.
Then she whispered:
"Someone took the boys' original medical records.""
My phone rang.
Michael.
I answered immediately.
"Tell me.""
His voice was urgent.
"Dominic, the laboratory didn't just receive a request. Someone submitted a sample under your name.""
I felt my blood run cold.
"What sample?""
"A blood sample.""
I looked at Isabella.
She was staring at me.
Michael continued.
"They're asking for confirmation of a paternity test.""
I gripped the phone.
"Who ordered it?""
A pause.
Then Michael gave me the name.
"Richard Barrett.""
I looked at the four boys sitting on the living room rug.
Someone had taken their medical records.
Someone had submitted a blood sample in my name.
And someone was trying to establish their paternity without their mother's knowledge.
But the most disturbing part was still coming.
Michael lowered his voice.
"Dominic, the laboratory says the test was completed yesterday.""
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"What were the results?""
He hesitated.
Then he said:
"The report identifies you as the biological father of all four boys.""
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The confirmation I had wanted.
But before I could speak, Michael added one more sentence.
"There's another result in the report. One that Richard Barrett specifically asked us not to disclose.""
I opened my eyes.
"What result?""
Michael went quiet.
Then:
"The laboratory found evidence that the boys may not have been conceived naturally.""
I stared at Isabella.
She had gone completely white.
May you like
And when I asked her what that meant, she whispered something that made every assumption I had made about the past six years collapse.
"Dominic, your grandfather knew about the embryos before I did.""
