Chapter 2 - The Boy Who Was Never Supposed to Exist
Camila recovered first.
“What is that?”
I closed my fingers around the key.
“Nothing.”
She stepped into the room.
“You're lying.”
I almost laughed.
Three hours earlier, I would have considered that statement absurd.
Now it sounded like an accusation from someone who had been lying to me all night.
Rose watched her silently.
Camila looked toward the bed.
“She's confused.”
“She's injured.”
“She thinks I'm responsible.”
“Are you?”
Camila's eyes widened.
“Alex.”
“Answer me.”
“I already did.”
“You told the paramedics Rose attacked you.”
“She did.”
“Then why are there bruises around her wrists?”
Camila said nothing.
I turned away from her.
“We're leaving.”
She followed me into the hallway.
“Alex, where are you going?”
“To Bridgeport.”
Her steps stopped.
“Why?”
“Rose's son is there.”
Camila's face changed again.
That was enough.
I walked away.
My driver was unavailable, so I took one of the armored SUVs myself.
Camila called eleven times during the drive.
I answered none.
At 4:02 a.m., I pulled up outside a narrow brick townhouse in Bridgeport.
An elderly woman named Mrs. Alvarez opened the door.
Her expression changed when she saw me.
“Mr. Vance?”
“You know me?”
“Rose told me you might come.”
A little boy was sitting at the kitchen table.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
Thin face.
He was wearing dinosaur pajamas and holding a toy truck.
He looked up.
For a second, I forgot everything.
The boy stood.
“Are you Mr. Alex?”
“Yes.”
“Mom said you were kind.”
The words hurt in a way I did not understand.
I crouched.
“What’s your name?”
“Matthew.”
He hesitated.
“Matthew Mendoza.”
My throat tightened.
I looked at his face again.
There was something familiar about him.
Not obvious.
Not enough to explain.
But I had seen those eyes before.
In old family photographs.
In the face of my brother.
“Did your mother tell you who your father was?”
Matthew lowered his eyes.
“He said his name was Nicholas.”
My heart broke.
“He knew you knew?”
Matthew nodded.
“He called me every Sunday.”
I sat beside him.
“Do you have a picture?”
Matthew ran upstairs.
When he returned, he held a photograph in both hands.
Nicholas.
Smiling.
Holding Matthew on his shoulders.
I stared at it.
My brother looked younger.
Happier.
Alive.
On the back of the photograph were handwritten words.
My little man. No matter what happens, you are never alone.
I felt something crack inside me.
Nicholas had known.
He had loved this child.
And I had never known either of them existed.
Mrs. Alvarez quietly explained what she could.
Rose had lived quietly.
Nicholas had visited privately.
He had never brought Matthew to the Vance estate.
He had been afraid of the family reaction.
But shortly before his death, things had changed.
Nicholas had become increasingly anxious.
He had told Rose that someone had discovered Matthew's existence.
Camila.
I closed my eyes.
“Where is his legal documentation?”
Mrs. Alvarez hesitated.
“Rose keeps most things locked away.”
I gave her my number.
“Please don't tell anyone I'm here.”
She nodded.
Matthew watched me.
“Is my mom okay?”
“Yes.”
“Is she going to die?”
“No.”
He looked relieved.
Then he asked the question that changed everything.
“Did my dad die because of me?”
I stared at him.
“Why would you think that?”
“Mom cried when people talked about the accident.”
“What accident?”
“The one that killed Daddy.”
I swallowed.
“Matthew, do you know where your father died?”
“On a bridge.”
I frowned.
Nicholas had died on Route 9.
Not a bridge.
At least, not the way the newspapers had described it.
“Who told you that?”
“Daddy.”
My mind began moving rapidly.
Nicholas had apparently told his seven-year-old son things he had never told me.
Maybe because he knew something was coming.
On the drive back, I called our family attorney.
“Daniel, I need every file connected to Nicholas's estate.”
There was silence.
“At this hour?”
“Yes.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Everything.”
I ended the call.
When I returned home, the guards told me Camila had already gone to bed.
I went upstairs.
She was sitting in our bedroom beside the window.
Still dressed in black.
Still wearing the ring I had given her.
She looked fragile.
Almost innocent.
“Alex.”
“How long did you know?”
She stared at me.
“Know what?”
“About Matthew.”
Silence.
Then she looked down.
“Who told you?”
That was not a denial.
I felt something inside me die.
“You knew.”
“I knew there was a child.”
“You knew he was Nicholas's son.”
“I suspected.”
“How long?”
She stood.
“Alex, please listen.”
“No.”
“I can explain.”
“Then explain.”
She walked toward me.
“Nicholas was unstable near the end.”
“Don't speak about him like that.”
“He was obsessed with exposing people.”
“What people?”
She didn't answer.
“Who was he investigating?”
She looked toward the floor.
“Your company.”
I laughed bitterly.
“I already know that.”
Camila's voice cracked.
“He believed someone was using Vance Global to move illegal money.”
“Was he right?”
She remained silent.
I stared at her.
“Were you involved?”
“No.”
“Did you meet him the night before he died?”
Her face went pale.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He asked me to help him.”
“Help him do what?”
“Protect Matthew.”
My chest tightened.
“From whom?”
She looked at me.
“From your family.”
I stepped back.
“You're telling me my family wanted to hurt a seven-year-old?”
“Not your family.”
“Then who?”
Camila closed her eyes.
“Someone who had been using your family for years.”
“Who?”
Before she could answer, my phone rang.
Daniel.
I answered.
“Alex, I found something.”
“What?”
“There was an amendment to Nicholas's estate.”
“What kind?”
Daniel hesitated.
“A private trust.”
“Beneficiary?”
“Matthew Mendoza.”
I stared at Camila.
She looked terrified.
Daniel continued.
“And there's something else.”
“What?”
“The trust contains voting shares in Vance Global.”
My grip tightened.
“How many?”
“Eleven percent.”
The room went silent.
Eleven percent was enough to change the balance of power in the company.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Alex, there is one unusual condition.”
“What?”
“The trust becomes active only if Nicholas dies unexpectedly.”
I looked at Camila.
She whispered, “Oh God.”
Then a new thought hit me.
“Nicholas didn't make this trust after his death.”
“No,” Daniel said.
“He made it before.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
Daniel answered.
“Two weeks before the accident.”
I hung up.
Camila stared at me.
“You don't understand what Nicholas found.”
“Then tell me.”
She shook her head.
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“Because this house is not safe.”
I looked at the security cameras displayed on the wall.
“My house has guards.”
May you like
Camila whispered:
“That's exactly why.”
