“You agreed to help him steal my home,” I stated, the reality of her profound selfishness settling between us.
“I was desperate!” she sobbed quietly, clutching the baby tighter. “I have no money, Kate. But then… last night, after you left, I was unpacking his suits. I found a receipt. Flights. To Belize. For him and that paralegal, Chloe.”
She reached into her oversized diaper bag and slid a small, silver USB flash drive across the sticky table.
“The older boy is Ben’s,” Maya said, her voice dropping to a hollow rasp. “But the baby… the baby isn’t. Ben forced me to lie to everyone, to say both were his, to make the ‘family unit’ look more sympathetic to a judge. He threatened that if I ever told you the truth, he would use his expensive lawyers to take my eldest son away from me forever.”
I stared at the USB drive. It felt heavy, radioactive.
“What is on this?” I asked.
“Everything,” Maya choked out. “Audio recordings of him threatening me. The fake paternity documents he paid a clinic to forge. His emails with Chloe planning their escape. He was going to let the bank take the house from you, and let me take the fall for squatting. He was going to leave us all to rot.”
A deep, physical disgust moved through me. It was no longer about a broken marriage. There was no grief left in my heart, no lingering affection to mourn. Benjamin Sterling was not a flawed husband who made a mistake. He was a sociopath who viewed human beings as disposable stepping stones to fund his vanity.
I picked up the drive and dropped it into my designer purse.
“I am not going to offer you my forgiveness, Maya,” I said coldly, standing up from the booth. “You made your bed in my living room. But I will make sure he never touches your son.”
She nodded slowly, breaking down into silent, heaving sobs as I walked away.
When I stepped out into the chilly autumn air, my phone rang. It was Miriam.
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