CHAPTER 8
The months that followed were a strange mix of chaos and calm.
On the calm side, Ethan and I grew closer every day. He came with me to my chemo appointments, holding my hand, making me laugh when I felt sick. We had dinner together every night, talking about the company, about our plans for the future, about everything except the Mitchells. My cancer responded well to treatment. The doctors said I was in remission. It felt like a weight had been lifted off our shoulders.
On the chaos side, the Mitchells kept making noise. They gave more interviews, posted more videos, cried more tears for the cameras. They kept pushing their lawsuit, demanding money, demanding Ethan take responsibility for the baby. Vanessa posted weekly updates about her pregnancy, talking about how “hard” it was to be a single mother, how “abandoned” she felt. Her social media following grew. A small but loud group of supporters started calling her a “survivor” and calling us monsters.
We stayed quiet. We didn’t engage. We kept building our case, gathering more evidence, waiting for the baby to be born.
Then, seven months after the engagement party, Vanessa gave birth.
A baby girl.
She named her Lily.
As soon as we got the news, Sarah filed the petition for a paternity test. The court ordered it. Vanessa fought it, of course, crying that we were “harassing” her, that we were trying to “take her baby away.” But the judge didn’t buy it. The test was done.
A week later, we got the results.
The baby was not Ethan’s.
I felt a wave of relief so strong it made my knees weak. Ethan cried when I told him—tears of relief, tears of sadness for the little girl who was stuck with Vanessa as a mother, tears of anger that Vanessa had lied for months, using an innocent baby to try to ruin him.
Sarah called, her voice triumphant.
“We have everything we need. The paternity test. The evidence of the affair with Jake. The proof they planned to defraud us from the start. The video of the party. All of it. We can file our countersuit tomorrow. We can ask for criminal charges. We can end this.”
“Wait,” I said. “I have a better idea.”
The next day, I called Vanessa directly. She was surprised to hear from me, but she agreed to meet. I told her to come to my office, alone. No parents. No lawyers. No cameras.
She showed up an hour later, holding the baby in her arms. She looked tired, her makeup smudged, her clothes messy. The little girl in her arms was beautiful, with big blue eyes and a head of soft dark hair. My heart ached for her.
Vanessa sat down across from my desk, her jaw set.
“What do you want? Here to gloat? Here to tell me you told me so?”
I leaned forward, my voice calm and steady.
“I have the paternity test results, Vanessa. The baby isn’t Ethan’s. I also have proof that you and your parents planned to defraud us from the start. I have emails. Texts. Witness statements. I have enough evidence to put you and your parents in jail for fraud and conspiracy.”
Her face went white. She held the baby tighter.
“You wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t send a mother to jail and leave her baby without a mom.”
I looked at the little girl, then back at Vanessa.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t. That’s why I’m offering you a deal.”
She frowned, confused.
“What kind of deal?”
“First,” I said. “You drop your lawsuit against us. Immediately. Second, you and your parents sign a full confession, admitting you planned to defraud us, admitting you lied about me online, admitting you lied about the baby being Ethan’s. Third, you move away from Nashville. At least three states away. You never contact Ethan or me ever again. You never mention our names in public ever again. Fourth, you get a job. You stop trying to live off other people. You take care of that baby the way she deserves.”
She stared at me.
“That’s it? You’re not going to sue us? You’re not going to send us to jail?”
“If you agree to the deal,” I said. “If you don’t, then I will file every lawsuit I can. I will press criminal charges. I will make sure you and your parents spend years in jail. And I will file for custody of that baby. I have more than enough money and resources to prove you’re an unfit mother. I will take that little girl from you, and I will raise her myself. And you will never see her again.”
Her eyes filled with tears. She looked down at the baby in her arms, then back at me. She knew I wasn’t bluffing. She knew I would do it.
“Why?” she whispered. “Why are you being so nice to me after everything I did?”
I looked at the baby again, my voice softening.
“I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for her. She didn’t ask for any of this. She didn’t ask to be born into this mess. She deserves a chance to have a good life, away from all the lies and the drama. If you take this deal, you can give her that. You can start over. Be a good mom. Be a better person. It’s your choice.”
Vanessa cried for a long time. Finally, she nodded, wiping her eyes.
“Okay. I’ll take the deal. I’ll do whatever you want.”
I nodded.
“Good. My lawyer will draw up the papers. You and your parents will sign them tomorrow. And then you leave. And you never come back.”
She stood up, holding the baby. Before she left, she paused, looking at me.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice small and genuine. “For everything. I was wrong. I was greedy. I’m sorry.”
I nodded.
“Then prove it. Be a good mom to that little girl. That’s the only apology that matters.”
May you like
She left, and I leaned back in my chair, letting out a long breath.
It was finally over.
