Chapter 6 - The Prescott Family Secret
The anonymous spreadsheets changed everything.
Rebecca refused to assume they were authentic.
Dad agreed.
“You verify before you accuse.”
That was how he operated.
Facts first.
Emotion later.
By noon, forensic accountants confirmed enough details to make the documents credible.
Victoria had invested nearly three million dollars in Dominic’s company over four years.
Not openly.
Through limited liability companies.
Family-controlled trusts.
Indirect holdings.
The money had entered during periods when the firm was struggling.
Some funds appeared legitimate.
Others moved strangely.
Loans became equity.
Equity became consulting fees.
Consulting fees flowed toward accounts Rebecca’s forensic team wanted examined more closely.
Dominic’s business problems were no longer just about bad investments.
They were about concealment.
The next custody hearing took place Thursday morning.
I wore a navy dress.
No dramatic entrance.
No entourage.
Dad came only because I asked him.
He sat in the back.
Dominic arrived with Victoria.
For the first time since I met her, Victoria looked tired.
Dominic looked worse.
The judge began with temporary custody.
Rebecca presented medical records showing I had followed all postpartum instructions.
Nursing records documenting appropriate infant care.
The hospital nurse who had helped me outside provided a statement.
She described Dominic’s behavior precisely.
No adjectives.
Just facts.
He left.
I was recovering from surgery.
I held a newborn.
The diaper bag was placed on the ground.
A nurse intervened when I tried to bend.
Dominic’s attorney attempted to soften it.
“Mr. Prescott believed his wife had sufficient transportation options.”
The judge looked at him.
“He left her with twelve dollars?”
The attorney paused.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“With a five-day-old infant?”
“Yes.”
The judge looked toward Dominic.
No expression.
That was worse than anger.
Then Maria’s statement was introduced.
Dominic’s lawyer objected to financial details being included in a custody hearing.
Rebecca explained that the evidence related directly to credibility and the effort to portray me as unstable.
The judge allowed limited discussion.
Serena testified remotely.
Victoria stared at her daughter through the screen.
Serena’s voice shook.
“Yes, my mother asked me to sign a statement.”
“Did you believe Audrey was an unsafe mother?”
“No.”
“Did you ever see her neglect Leo?”
“No.”
“Did you ever see hospital staff express concern about her mental stability?”
“No.”
“Why did you sign?”
Serena looked down.
“My mother said Audrey’s father would take the baby away from Dominic.”
Rebecca asked quietly, “Did General Brooks ever say that?”
“No.”
“Did Audrey?”
“No.”
Victoria’s face turned white.
Then came the question I knew would hurt.
“Did your mother ever receive mail addressed to Audrey?”
Serena closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Dominic whispered to his lawyer.
Victoria gripped her handbag.
After three hours, the judge issued temporary arrangements.
I retained primary physical custody while Leo remained medically vulnerable as a newborn.
Dominic would receive structured visitation.
No one “won.”
That mattered to me.
Leo wasn’t a prize.
He was our son.
Even after everything, I didn’t want revenge through him.
Outside the courthouse, reporters waited.
Not because of me.
Because someone had learned General Charles Brooks’s daughter was involved.
Dad hated that.
I hated it more.
A reporter shouted:
“General Brooks, are you using your influence in your daughter’s divorce?”
Dad stopped.
I touched his sleeve.
He looked at me.
Then at the cameras.
“No.”
One word.
Another reporter called:
“Did you pressure financial institutions connected to Mr. Prescott?”
“No.”
“Are you trying to destroy his company?”
“No.”
Dad stepped toward the microphones.
“My daughter asked me for one thing.”
Cameras moved closer.
“A safe ride after her husband left her and her newborn outside a hospital.”
Silence.
“She has attorneys. She has courts. She has her own voice.”
Dad looked directly into the cameras.
“She doesn’t need mine.”
Then he walked away.
That clip spread everywhere.
Not because Dad attacked Dominic.
Because he didn’t.
Dominic wanted a powerful enemy.
Someone he could blame.
Someone he could say destroyed him.
Dad refused to become that.
Which left Dominic alone with his own decisions.
Two days later, Caleb Monroe contacted Rebecca.
He wanted to cooperate.
Dominic’s partner had discovered financial transfers he had never approved.
He brought records.
Emails.
Internal messages.
And one devastating document.
An email from Dominic to Victoria sent seven months before Leo’s birth.
Once Audrey signs the guarantee, we’re covered through Q4. She never looks at these things.
My hands shook when I read it.
Below was Victoria’s reply.
Make sure she believes it’s tax-related. Pregnancy has her distracted enough already.
I pushed the paper away.
Dad saw my face.
“I’m sorry.”
I stared at him.
“She sat at my baby shower.”
I remembered Victoria holding tiny blue socks.
Smiling.
Accepting champagne.
Telling guests how excited she was to become a grandmother.
Meanwhile she was discussing how pregnancy made me easier to deceive.
Something inside me finally grieved.
Not for my marriage.
For the woman I had been inside it.
The woman who believed kindness would eventually make cruel people kinder.
It doesn’t always.
Sometimes kindness only teaches cruel people how much you’ll tolerate.
The financial investigation accelerated.
Authorities became interested.
Rebecca warned me not to speculate.
So I didn’t.
Dominic’s company board removed him temporarily pending review.
Investors demanded documentation.
The bank froze several accounts.
Victoria hired her own attorney.
For the first time, mother and son stopped appearing together.
Then Dominic asked to see me.
Not through text.
Through attorneys.
Rebecca asked what I wanted.
“Why?”
“He says he wants to discuss settlement.”
I thought about it.
Then agreed.
Neutral location.
Attorneys present.
Dominic arrived looking ten years older.
No expensive watch.
No confident smile.
He sat across from me.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, “I’m sorry.”
I waited.
“I know that means nothing.”
“It means something.”
His eyes lifted hopefully.
“It means you know you should be.”
Hope disappeared.
He nodded.
“I deserve that.”
Rebecca remained beside me.
Dominic’s attorney sat near him.
“I didn’t plan for things to become this.”
“What did you plan?”
“To fix the company.”
“With my name?”
“Yes.”
“With my signatures?”
He looked down.
“Yes.”
“With my family’s reputation?”
“Yes.”
“And you thought I’d never know?”
“I thought I’d repay everything first.”
I stared.
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
His eyes reddened.
“Yes.”
I thought of the hospital.
“Why did you leave me there?”
That question surprised him.
Of all the millions.
The documents.
The lawyers.
That was what I wanted answered.
Dominic rubbed his face.
“My mother kept calling.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I was tired.”
“So was I.”
“I felt trapped.”
I stared at him.
“You felt trapped?”
He nodded weakly.
“Everything became responsibility. Baby. Business. Mom. You.”
You.
I became another responsibility.
“I resented everything.”
He swallowed.
“And outside the hospital, I took it out on the person least likely to fight back.”
There it was.
The truth.
Not dramatic.
Not satisfying.
Just ugly.
“Why me?”
“Because you always forgave me.”
I looked down.
That sentence hurt more than anything.
My forgiveness hadn’t changed him.
It had trained him.
Dominic continued.
“I’m not asking you to come back.”
“Good.”
“I know that’s over.”
“Yes.”
“I just want to be Leo’s father.”
I looked at him.
“Then become someone he deserves.”
Dominic cried.
Quietly.
I didn’t comfort him.
That was no longer my job.
Settlement discussions began.
But before we finished, Rebecca’s phone buzzed.
She looked at the screen.
Then at Dominic’s attorney.
Something had happened.
“What?” I asked.
Rebecca turned the phone toward me.
Breaking financial news.
Dominic’s company had officially entered emergency restructuring.
And investigators were reviewing disputed loan documents.
Dominic saw the headline.
His face collapsed.
His attorney stood.
“We need to leave.”
Dominic didn’t move.
He looked at me.
For a second, he seemed like the man I had first met.
Lost.
Afraid.
Human.
Then he whispered, “Did your father do this?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
I looked at him.
“You did.”
That was the last private conversation we had as husband and wife.
But our story was not over.
Because the collapse of Dominic’s company would expose one final truth—one that had nothing to do with money, forged signatures, or Victoria.
It involved the day Leo was born.
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And when I learned what Dominic had done while I was in surgery, I finally understood why my father had told me not to warn him.
The worst betrayal hadn’t happened outside the hospital. It had happened inside it.
