Chapter 7 - The Confrontation
Within forty-eight hours, David Sterling and the District Attorney’s office had completely dismantled Victoria Vance’s life.
It turned out that Victoria had squandered her two-million-dollar payout on bad investments and high-stakes gambling in Macao. Deep in debt to dangerous loan sharks, she had come to New York out of pure desperation, hoping to shake me down for a final payout.
Instead, she found herself under arrest at Rikers Island, facing grand larceny, conspiracy, and extortion charges that guaranteed she would spend the next decade behind bars.
When I returned to the penthouse that evening, I found Mara sitting in the library, holding a cup of tea, looking out at the city skyline. She had already received the call from the prosecutor’s office.
I stepped into the room softly, taking a seat beside her on the leather sofa.
"I'm sorry, Mara," I whispered, taking her cold hand in mine. "I'm so sorry you had a sister who could betray you like that."
Mara let out a long, quiet sigh, leaning her head onto my shoulder. "I knew she took money from your father six years ago, Julian. I found out three years ago when she accidentally left a bank record at my mother's house. That was the day I cut all ties with her."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked gently.
"Because I was ashamed," she murmured, tears glistening in her eyes. "I was ashamed that my own blood could be so cruel. I thought... I thought if you knew what my sister was like, you would think my whole family was trash."
I reached out, cupping her chin, forcing her to look into my eyes.
"Listen to me," I said firmly, every word laced with absolute conviction. "You are the strongest, most noble, most incredible woman I have ever met. You raised four amazing boys with nothing but your bare hands and your love. Your sister's sins will never define you."
Mara looked into my eyes, her heart swelling with an emotion so powerful it threatened to break through her tears.
From the hallway outside, the sound of loud running footsteps echoed across the floor.
"Dad! Dad!" Micah shouted, bursting into the library, holding a colorful piece of paper in his hand.
The word hit me like a thunderbolt.
Dad.
I froze, my heart pounding violently in my chest. It was the first time any of them had called me Dad.
Micah ran straight to the sofa, clambering up onto my lap, pointing frantically at his drawing—a picture of a big house, four small boys, a beautiful woman, and a tall man wearing a blue suit.
"Look!" Micah beamed proudly, his grey-blue eyes shining with absolute joy. "Teacher asked us to draw our family today! I drew you, Dad! And Mom! And Milo and Mason and Max!"
Behind him, the other three boys trotted into the room, looking at me with big, hopeful eyes.
"Can we call you Dad now?" Mason asked shyly, rubbing the back of his neck with that identical nervous habit. "Milo said we should ask first."
Tears spilled over my eyes, running unchecked down my cheeks. I wrapped my arms tightly around Micah, reaching out with my other arm to pull Milo, Mason, and Max onto the sofa with us, pulling all four of my sons into a massive, warm bear hug.
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"You can call me Dad," I choked out through my sobs, kissing the tops of their heads over and over again. "You can call me Dad for the rest of my life."
Mara sat beside us, covering her mouth with her hands, crying tears of pure, unadulterated happiness as she watched her sons finally belong to the father who loved them more than life itself.
