Chapter 7 - Julian’s Son
Julian denied being Noah’s father.
Of course he did.
Then the court ordered a test.
Ninety-nine point nine nine percent.
I stared at the result inside Rebecca’s office.
“So he knew.”
“Almost certainly.”
“And he let me raise his child.”
Rebecca folded her hands.
“Because Noah gave Isabella leverage over you.”
The logic was ugly.
But clear.
If I believed Noah was mine, Isabella became permanently connected to my family.
If something happened to me, she could claim control as the mother of my supposed son.
And if Maya disappeared into a residential institution, Isabella would stand beside an infant everyone believed was my heir.
I suddenly understood the succession documents Julian had accessed.
“It wasn’t enough to steal the company.”
Rebecca looked at me.
“They were building a replacement family around your estate.”
I thought of Maya.
The real obstacle.
My daughter from my first marriage.
The beneficiary of her mother’s trust.
The child who would inherit a large percentage of Hart Global under my estate plan.
Isabella could not control Maya.
So she tried to break her.
Then remove her.
That afternoon, Detective Ruiz called.
“We found the place where Isabella purchased the sedative.”
“Prescription?”
“Not hers.”
“Whose?”
“Julian Voss.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
Ruiz continued.
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“A pharmacist remembers Isabella.”
“Why?”
“She asked whether the medication would show up on routine pediatric blood work.”
I closed my eyes.
Maya had not been accidentally exposed.
The dosage had been researched.
Measured.
Planned.
The criminal investigation expanded.
Child endangerment.
Forgery.
Identity theft.
Financial conspiracy.
Potential poisoning.
Julian was suspended from Hart Global immediately.
The board voted eleven to zero.
He resigned five minutes before they could fire him.
Then he disappeared.
His attorney claimed he was traveling.
His passport had not been used.
His home was empty.
His primary phone was found in a trash can near LaGuardia Airport.
Marcus traced a secondary corporate device.
The last signal came from Ashbourne Behavioral Academy.
The school where Isabella planned to send Maya.
Rebecca looked at me.
“Why would he go there?”
I knew before she finished asking.
“Evidence.”
We drove there with Ruiz.
Ashbourne sat behind iron gates in rural Pennsylvania.
The administrator initially denied knowing Julian.
Then Ruiz produced a warrant.
Twenty minutes later, we found a locked filing room.
Inside were dozens of applications.
Some real.
Some altered.
Maya’s file was on top.
But beneath it was another folder.
My name was written across the tab.
NATHAN HART.
Inside was a psychiatric admission form.
It described me as paranoid.
Volatile.
Potentially dangerous.
The proposed admission date was the same Friday Maya was supposed to arrive.
Rebecca stared at it.
“They weren’t only going to institutionalize her.”
“No.”
I turned the final page.
My forged signature authorized a seventy-two-hour psychiatric hold.
A handwritten note had been added beneath it.
Medication after arrival.
Maya was supposed to disappear first.
May you like
Then me.
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