Chapter 3 - The Life I Thought I Had Built
Victoria was waiting for me outside.
She looked furious.
“Where were you?”
I walked past her.
“Home.”
“Don't lie to me.”
I stopped.
“What do you want?”
She stared.
“You embarrassed me tonight.”
I laughed.
“You embarrassed yourself.”
Her face tightened.
“Those boys aren't your responsibility.”
“They are my sons.”
“They're Evelyn's sons.”
“They're mine too.”
Victoria stepped closer.
“You abandoned them.”
I looked at her.
“Yes.”
“So why suddenly care?”
“Because I'm finally seeing what I did.”
She shook her head.
“This is ridiculous.”
“No.”
I looked directly into her eyes.
“This is the first honest thing I've done in thirteen years.”
She became quiet.
Then she said:
“Preston is devastated.”
I had almost forgotten about him.
Preston.
Victoria's son.
The boy I had raised.
Or thought I had.
I had met Preston when he was four.
Victoria had told me his biological father was dead.
I believed her.
I paid for his schools.
His tutors.
His sports.
His vacations.
His first car.
I had called him my son.
And now I realized I had spent years trying to be a father to someone while abandoning the two children who were actually mine.
“I need to see Preston.”
“He's in his room.”
I found him sitting on the edge of his bed.
He was seventeen.
Angry.
Humiliated.
“Dad?”
I stopped.
He looked at me.
“Did you know those guys?”
“Yes.”
“They're your sons?”
“Yes.”
His face fell.
“Then what am I?”
I sat beside him.
“You are a child I love.”
“Not your son?”
“I don't know what to call our relationship right now.”
He looked away.
“You paid for everything.”
“Yes.”
“You always said I was your son.”
“I believed you were.”
He turned.
“What does that mean?”
I couldn't answer.
Victoria had lied about Preston's father.
I would discover that later.
For now, I only knew that this boy was confused.
And none of this was his fault.
“I am still here for you,” I said.
“Even after you find your real kids?”
The question stabbed me.
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you stay for them?”
I closed my eyes.
“I don't have a good answer.”
He nodded.
“You really messed everything up.”
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“For everyone.”
“Yes.”
That night, I went into my office.
I opened every financial file.
I wanted to know what Victoria had done.
What I found was worse than expected.
Money had been moved from my accounts.
Large amounts.
Some to Preston's private trust.
Some to Victoria's relatives.
Some to shell companies.
I called my accountant.
“Who authorized these transfers?”
There was a long silence.
“Mrs. Mercer.”
Victoria.
I opened another file.
Then another.
She had spent millions.
Not just on Preston.
On herself.
Luxury properties.
Jewelry.
Private memberships.
And one recurring payment.
To a company called Holloway Educational Trust Services.
I stared at the name.
Holloway.
My family name.
Why would Victoria be paying a company connected to my sons?
I called the number.
A woman answered.
“Hello?”
“This is Richard Mercer.”
Silence.
Then:
“We've been waiting for you.”
My heart stopped.
May you like
“Who is this?”
“Someone who knows why your sons won tonight.”
