Chapter 6 - THE LAWYER WHO SOLD BOTH SIDES
Cassandra had trusted Peter Hale because he seemed kind.
That memory made her angrier than anything.
He had been recommended by a maternity social worker when she was seven months pregnant and terrified.
He had sat across from her in a small office and said, “You need someone protecting you now.”
She had believed him.
Three years later, she discovered he had been paid by the man working to destroy her marriage.
Damon’s investigation team found the money in under six hours.
Three separate payments.
One before the divorce petition.
One after Cassandra signed.
One after the twins were born.
“What was the third payment for?” Cassandra asked.
Nobody answered.
They were sitting inside Damon’s Seattle penthouse.
Luke and Violet were asleep in guest rooms while an independent forensic attorney named Naomi Grant reviewed old legal files.
Naomi finally looked up.
“I think I know.”
Damon’s expression hardened.
“Say it.”
“Your divorce decree contained an acknowledgment that there were no children born or expected from the marriage.”
Cassandra stared.
“I told Hale I was pregnant.”
“I know.”
“I was seven months pregnant when I signed.”
Naomi nodded.
“Hale told the court there were no children because the petition had been filed months earlier.”
“But he knew.”
“Yes.”
Cassandra felt nauseated.
Damon stood.
“Why would anyone pay him after the births?”
Naomi slid a document across the table.
“Because Luke and Violet’s birth certificates list father unknown.”
“That was my decision,” Cassandra said.
“I was angry.”
Naomi nodded.
“But hospital records contain an original social work note.”
She handed Cassandra a photocopy.
Mother identifies former husband Damon Prescott as biological father. States father has refused contact.
Cassandra closed her eyes.
“That’s what I believed.”
“Someone requested the note be sealed.”
“Who?”
“Peter Hale.”
Damon’s voice went cold.
“Under whose instruction?”
Naomi looked at him.
“Julian Cross.”
Another piece.
Another theft.
Damon walked toward the windows.
“I could have found them through public records.”
“Not easily,” Naomi said. “But yes. If you had known to look.”
Cassandra heard what she did not say.
He had not known to look.
Because he had believed Cassandra wanted him gone.
And because his pride had allowed that belief to become permanent.
Later that night, after everyone left, Cassandra found Damon in the kitchen.
He had poured whiskey.
He wasn’t drinking it.
“I keep trying to decide who I’m angrier at.”
“Julian?”
“Myself.”
She leaned against the counter.
“Why?”
“Because he could only manipulate us because I stopped trying.”
“You came to my apartment.”
“Once.”
“You wrote letters.”
“Seven.”
“I never got them.”
“I should have driven to your sister’s.”
“You didn’t know where she lived.”
“I could have found out.”
“You weren’t a billionaire yet.”
“I had Google.”
Despite herself, Cassandra smiled.
Damon looked at her.
“There.”
“What?”
“You smiled.”
“Don’t make it weird.”
He set down the whiskey.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
“I’m asking for the chance to earn whatever comes next.”
Her chest tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Very inspiring.”
“I’m new to emotional honesty.”
“I noticed.”
He laughed softly.
Then the doorbell rang.
At midnight.
Security called first.
“Mr. Prescott, Peter Hale is downstairs.”
Cassandra froze.
Damon looked at her.
“Do you want him sent away?”
“No.”
Her voice surprised even her.
“I want to hear him.”
Hale looked older.
Smaller.
He entered the penthouse carrying a thick envelope.
“I’m here voluntarily.”
Damon’s voice was cold.
“That was your first good decision in three years.”
Hale looked at Cassandra.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
“You don’t get to lead with sorry.”
He nodded.
“You’re right.”
“Why did you do it?”
Hale looked toward the floor.
“Money.”
Simple.
Ugly.
“I had debts. Julian offered to cover them.”
“You were my attorney.”
“I know.”
“I sat in your office crying.”
“I know.”
“I told you I was afraid my children’s father didn’t want them.”
His eyes filled.
“I know.”
“And you knew he had never received my letter.”
“Yes.”
Cassandra slapped him.
Hard.
Damon did not move.
Hale touched his cheek.
“I deserved that.”
“No.”
Cassandra’s voice shook.
“You deserved to tell the truth three years ago.”
Hale handed her the envelope.
“There is something you need to see.”
Inside were photocopies of correspondence.
Damon’s letters.
All seven.
Cassandra’s breath disappeared.
She unfolded the first.
Cassie,
I don’t know whether you’ll read this.
I was cruel the night I left.
I kept telling myself ambition was for our future, but somewhere along the way I started treating our future like something that could wait until I finished building everything else.
I miss you.
If you want me to leave you alone, tell me yourself.
I won’t let a lawyer tell me.
D.
Cassandra began crying.
Hale’s voice was quiet.
“Julian intercepted the originals.”
Damon looked murderous.
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know. These are copies I kept.”
Cassandra opened another.
Then another.
Each one was a version of the conversation she had waited three years to have.
Some angry.
Some apologetic.
One written on Christmas Eve.
Last year would have been our first married Christmas in Seattle.
I bought the ornament you liked.
The stupid glass house with snow on the roof.
I don’t know why.
Maybe because some part of me still thinks we’ll hang it somewhere together someday.
Cassandra pressed the letter to her mouth.
Damon turned away.
Hale continued.
“There’s more.”
“No,” Cassandra whispered.
“Please.”
He removed a small flash drive.
“Julian recorded a meeting with me. I think for leverage.”
“Why do you have it?” Damon asked.
“Because I copied everything after realizing he intended to make me the fall guy if this ever surfaced.”
Damon connected the drive.
Audio filled the room.
Julian’s voice.
“If Cassandra contacts Damon after the twins are born, tell her he knows and wants no parental rights.”
Hale’s younger voice answered.
“And if Damon asks?”
“He won’t.”
“What if he does?”
A pause.
Then Julian said:
“Tell him Cassandra terminated the pregnancy.”
Cassandra grabbed the table.
Damon went white.
Hale looked sick.
Julian’s voice continued.
“He cannot mourn children he believes never existed.”
Damon stopped the recording.
The room became completely silent.
Hale whispered, “He never had to use that lie because Damon never knew about the pregnancy.”
Cassandra looked at Damon.
He was shaking.
Not with anger.
With horror.
Julian had built contingencies for every possibility.
Every call.
Every question.
Every chance they might find their way back.
Damon looked at Hale.
“You testify.”
“Yes.”
“Publicly.”
“Yes.”
“You surrender your license.”
Hale closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Cassandra stood.
“I want you gone.”
He nodded.
At the door, Hale stopped.
“There’s one thing Julian never understood.”
Neither answered.
“He thought if he separated you long enough, whatever you had would die.”
Cassandra’s jaw tightened.
“He may have been right.”
Hale looked at Damon.
Then at the children’s toys scattered across the floor.
“Maybe.”
He left.
Cassandra stood surrounded by the letters she should have received three years earlier.
Damon did not touch her.
He did not ask.
He simply sat across from her while she read every one.
At three in the morning, she reached the last.
The date was two days before her divorce hearing.
Cassie,
I’m signing tomorrow because Julian says your attorney told him you want this finished.
I don’t believe him.
But I don’t know how many ways I can keep asking someone to stay when she seems determined to leave.
If this really is what you want, I’ll sign.
But if it isn’t, call me.
Please.
One word.
I’ll come.
Cassandra lowered the paper.
“I never knew.”
Damon’s eyes were wet.
“Neither did I.”
May you like
For the first time in three years, Cassandra reached across the table.
And took his hand.
