Chapter 3
I did not sleep.
At 5:00 a.m., I drove to Helen’s office with the folder on the passenger seat and the torn suit in a garment bag behind me.
She met me in jeans, a blazer, and the expression of a woman who had already smelled smoke.
“You look terrible,” she said.
“I feel worse.”
She spread the documents across her conference table.
The trust deeds were clean.
The adoption was clean.
The bank transfers were not.
Then she studied the letter about the second baby.
“Did Victoria ever mention another child?”
“Never.”
“Did Sabrina know?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer hurt.
Because yesterday I would have said no.
Today, I was not sure of anything.
Helen called a private investigator named Martin Hale.
He arrived an hour later with coffee and no small talk.
He scanned the letter.
“Private placement. Old records. Different county. I can pull threads, but it may take time.”
“How much time?”
He looked at me.
“Less if someone wants this hidden.”
By 9:00 a.m., Helen had filed emergency notices protecting trust assets.
By 10:00, the pending eighty-thousand-dollar transfer was blocked.
By 11:00, Bayfront Pavilion’s manager called me.
“Mr. Adler? Your wife is here requesting changes to tomorrow’s ceremony.”
“What changes?”
He hesitated.
“She wants your name removed from all acknowledgments. And she says Raymond Cole should be listed as father of the bride.”
I closed my eyes.
“Tell her the venue owner will address it tomorrow.”
“The owner?”
“Yes.”
“She believes Logan’s family rented the pavilion.”
“They rented tables. I own the building.”
Silence.
Then a careful, “Understood.”
I drove home at noon.
Victoria was in the kitchen, smiling at her phone.
She looked up and frowned.
“Where were you?”
“With my attorney.”
Her face twitched.
“Why?”
“To protect myself.”
She laughed.
“From what? A torn jacket?”
Sabrina entered behind her.
She wore a white silk robe with Bride embroidered on the back.
My heart squeezed despite everything.
“Dad, don’t make tomorrow awkward.”
I looked at her.
“I won’t.”
Relief crossed her face.
Then I added, “Because I won’t be attending as a guest.”
Victoria’s eyes narrowed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’ll be there as the owner.”
The kitchen went quiet.
Sabrina frowned.
“Owner of what?”
“The Bayfront Pavilion.”
Victoria’s face lost color.
“That’s not funny.”
“No,” I said. “None of this is.”
I placed a copy of Raymond’s rights relinquishment on the counter.
Sabrina stared at it.
“What is that?”
“The paper your real father signed when he sold the right to be your father.”
Victoria slapped the paper away.
“Don’t you dare.”
May you like
I looked at my wife.
“You should have thought of that before you cut my suit.”
