Chapter 4 - Unraveling Threads
Douglas Sterling did not wait for Brandon to ask. He pulled a second document from the red expanding folder, holding it up so that it was plainly visible.
“As part of the fraud investigation into L&B Creative Solutions,” Douglas explained, his tone conversational yet devastating, “the forensic team required a full audit of all personal expenses charged to the business account over the last eighteen months. That included recurring payments made to a private concierge medical clinic in downtown Raleigh.”
Douglas glanced down at the paper.
“It appears Ms. Barrett underwent two rounds of intrauterine insemination using an anonymous donor bank in late 2024, billed directly to the corporate account you funded, Brandon. The biological probability of your paternity is zero percent.”
Brandon stared at Douglas, his eyes bulging. “No. No! That’s a lie! She loves me! We built a life together! She wouldn't—she wouldn't do that!”
He lunged forward, grabbing Lauren by her cashmere sweater collar. “Tell him he’s lying, Lauren! Tell me he’s making this up!”
“Get your hands off her immediately, Mr. Foster, or I will have hospital security arrest you for assault,” Douglas said firmly.
Two tall security guards in gray uniforms were already striding quickly down the hallway, drawn by the commotion.
Lauren broke down entirely, falling to her knees on the linoleum floor right in the puddle of spilled formula. Tears washed black mascara down her cheeks in jagged streaks.
“I’m sorry, Brandon!” she sobbed, clutching her hands together. “I’m so sorry! You kept saying you wanted a family! You kept saying that if I couldn't give you a baby, you’d find someone else just like you did with Gwen! I was terrified of losing you! I couldn't get pregnant naturally either, so I used the company account! I did it for us!”
Brandon pulled his hands back as if she were made of fire. He looked down at her with a look of utter disgust, his jaw working silently as his entire reality crumbled into dust around his feet.
He had built his entire identity on the illusion of his ultimate victory. He had paraded this baby through Gwen’s workplace to deliver a crushing, final humiliation to the woman he had spent years gaslighting. He had wanted to prove that he was the strong, virile patriarch, and that Gwen was nothing more than an incomplete, defective ex-wife.
Instead, he was a man who had been defrauded of millions by his mistress, duped into raising another man’s child, exposed as a biological fraud, and caught red-handed in a massive federal financial crime—all in front of a dozen medical professionals and his ex-wife’s attorney.
Gwen stood perfectly still.
She felt no urge to laugh. She felt no desire to gloat. The sheer absurdity and poetic justice of the moment was so overwhelming it transcended simple joy.
“You...” Brandon whispered, looking at Lauren as if she were a monster. “You stole my money... to buy another man’s kid... and made me pay for it?”
“You didn't have any real money, Brandon,” Lauren spat back, her remorse instantly turning into sharp, desperate venom as she looked up from the floor. “You were broke! Your company was failing! The only money you had was the four million dollars you stole from Gwen’s marital estate! You lied to her, you lied to me, and you’ve been lying to yourself for ten years!”
The process server who had accompanied Douglas Sterling stepped forward quietly.
He pulled two thick white envelopes from his binder.
“Brandon Eric Foster?” the process server asked neutrally.
May you like
Brandon didn't answer. He was staring blankly at the floor.
“You have been served,” the man said, handing one envelope to Brandon and dropping the second into Lauren’s open handbag on the floor. “Notice of deposition regarding civil fraud, asset seizure, and spousal support restitution. Have a good day.”
