“Mr. Vance,” I whispered, keeping my eyes wide and compliant, playing the role David had assigned me. “I… I just want this pregnancy to be over. I don't want any trouble.”
“Good,” Julian said, a cruel, satisfied smirk pulling at his lips. He clicked a silver pen and began writing against the wall. “Trouble is a very expensive thing for people like you to cause, Maya. Eleanor’s family controls half the real estate in this city. If you breathe a word of this to Mrs. Halloway or my wife, you won't just lose your surrogacy fee. I will personally see to it that you are buried in so much legal litigation you’ll never see daylight again.”
He ripped the check from the pad and shoved it into my hand, his fingers forcefully grazing mine.
“Cash it,” he commanded softly. “And keep your mouth shut.”
Julian stepped back, adjusting his tie perfectly, and offered me a hollow, terrifyingly normal smile.
“Shall we go back in? Eleanor is waiting.”
I looked down at the fifty thousand dollar check in my shaking hand. I didn't see a bribe.
I saw an admission of guilt.
I nodded slowly, slipping the check into my pocket, and followed the monster back into the room, knowing exactly what I was going to do.
CHAPTER 3
The following forty-eight hours were the most agonizing of my life.
I didn't cash the check. Instead, I gave it directly to David in a brightly lit diner near his office in Queens. We sat in a back booth, the vinyl seats cracked and peeling, while David meticulously photographed the check with his phone.
“This is beautiful,” David muttered, taking a sip of his black coffee. He looked exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes prominent, but a fierce, competitive energy radiated from him. “Fifty grand. It’s an extortionary bribe meant to silence a witness to an assault. He just handed us proof that he knew he did it, and he knew he had to cover it up.”
“Did you get the security footage?” I asked, keeping my voice low, constantly glancing at the diner door. Every time someone in a dark suit walked past the window, my pulse spiked, convinced Julian’s bodyguard had tracked me down.
David nodded slowly, sliding a manila envelope across the table.
“The subpoena cleared yesterday afternoon. The Federal Reserve security hub caught it from two different angles. Crystal clear, Maya.”
I opened the envelope. Inside were several glossy printed stills from the video feed.
My breath caught. There it was, frozen in high definition. The black Bugatti. Me, stumbling forward. And Julian Vance, perfectly centered in the frame, his arm fully extended in the exact moment his open palm struck my cheek. The sheer force of the impact was visible in the way my body contorted backward. You could clearly see my pregnant silhouette.
Seeing it from an outside perspective made the reality of the violence ten times worse. He hadn't just swatted me away; he had intentionally tried to hurt me.
“It’s a clear-cut case of aggravated assault,” David said quietly, watching my reaction. “If we take this to the police, he gets arrested. But Maya, you need to understand what happens next. If he’s arrested, the surrogacy contract is immediately breached under Clause 14-B. Genesis Elite’s legal team will swarm you. Julian’s high-priced lawyers will claim you engineered the bump to extort him. They will drag your medical debt into court to prove you’re desperate.”
“Let them,” I said, my voice hardening. I placed the photos back into the envelope. “He is not taking this baby, David. I won't let a man who hits a pregnant woman in the street raise a child. What about his wife? Does she know?”
“Eleanor Sterling-Vance,” David sighed, leaning back against the vinyl. “I did some digging on her family. Her father is Arthur Sterling. He’s an old-money titan, ruthless and entirely focused on legacy. According to some discreet Wall Street chatter I pulled from a colleague, Julian’s hedge fund is actually under water. He lost nearly a hundred million last quarter on bad short positions.”
I frowned, trying to piece the puzzle together. “Then how does he have a five million dollar escrow for the surrogacy? How is he driving a Bugatti?”
“He’s fronting,” David explained, tapping the table. “Arthur Sterling set up a massive trust fund—reportedly half a billion dollars—specifically for his first biological grandchild. Julian doesn't get access to that money until the child is born and legally registered to him and Eleanor. Without that baby, Julian is bankrupt. He’s running on fumes and borrowed time. That baby is his literal meal ticket.”
Everything clicked into place. The desperation in his voice when I bumped him. The panic in his eyes when he saw my bruised face in the clinic. He wasn't just afraid of a lawsuit. He was terrified of his father-in-law cutting him off and leaving him destitute.
“We have the footage. We have the bribe check,” I said, my heart pounding with a sudden, reckless courage. “What’s the next step? We file the breach, right? We take the five million penalty and run.”
“Not exactly,” David said, his expression tightening. “Julian isn't stupid. He knows the clock is ticking. He’s going to try to neutralize you before you can go to the agency or the police.”
As if on cue, my phone vibrated aggressively on the table.
I looked down at the screen. It was an unknown, private number.
I stared at it, the blood draining from my face.
David nodded firmly. “Answer it. Put it on speaker. Let me record it.”
I picked up the phone with trembling fingers, swiped the screen, and tapped the speaker icon.
“Hello?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.