“For legitimate reasons.”
“Reasons you didn’t disclose?”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
The confident man who had whispered that my baby and I would never survive without him was disappearing in front of me.
Judge Reynolds called for a recess and ordered that no party leave the courthouse while the submitted information was reviewed.
Ethan immediately pulled his attorney aside.
Their conversation was quiet, but their body language said enough.
His attorney kept pointing toward the documents.
Ethan kept shaking his head.
Victoria guided me to a bench outside the courtroom.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I touched my belly.
My son kicked again.
Victoria’s eyes dropped toward the movement beneath my dress.
Her expression changed.
“My grandson?”
I nodded.
She covered her mouth.
The billionaire businesswoman who had entered the courtroom with security guards and a forensic accounting file knelt carefully in front of me and placed her hand over mine.
“I lost so many years,” she whispered.
I didn’t know how to comfort her.
I barely knew how to process my own feelings.
“I thought nobody wanted me,” I said.
Victoria closed her eyes.
“I wanted you every day.”
That sentence hurt more than I expected.
Not because it was cruel.
Because I believed her.
I thought of birthdays spent wondering whether anyone remembered the date.
School ceremonies where other children scanned the crowd for parents while I already knew nobody was coming.
The first time Ethan told me his family could become mine, and how desperately I had wanted that promise to be true.
Maybe that was why I had ignored so much.
Ethan had understood my hunger to belong long before I understood how he could use it.
Victoria squeezed my hand.
“I can’t repair your childhood,” she said.
“And I won’t insult you by pretending money can replace it.
I only want the chance to know you, if you’ll allow me.”
Before I could answer, the courtroom doors opened again.
We were called back inside.
Judge Reynolds’s demeanor had changed.
The original finality was gone.
“Based on the material presented and preliminary verification conducted during recess,” he said, “the court has serious concerns regarding the accuracy and completeness of financial representations made during these proceedings.”
Ethan’s attorney stood.
“Your Honor—”
The judge raised a hand.
“I am not issuing a finding of fraud from the bench today.
I am stating that the evidence is sufficient to require immediate review.
The prior disposition concerning marital assets will not stand as entered while that review occurs.”
My knees weakened.
Not stand.
The ruling that had left me with nothing was no longer the final word.
Ethan stared at the judge.
“You can’t reopen everything because some billionaire decided she doesn’t like me.”
The courtroom went silent.
Judge Reynolds’s eyes narrowed.
“Mr.
