“And?”
His expression was serious.
“The document is real.”
My stomach tightened.
“So Camille’s baby…”
“Almost certainly isn’t Nathan’s.”
I looked toward the living room where Elodie slept peacefully.
My first emotion wasn’t satisfaction.
It wasn’t revenge.
It was sadness.
Because no matter what Nathan had done to me, I knew what it felt like to hold a newborn child and believe your entire future was wrapped inside that tiny heartbeat.
But then Graham opened another document.
“And there’s more.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
He slid a bank statement across the table.
A transfer history.
Camille Foster.
Nathan Shaw.
Multiple payments.
Large amounts.
I frowned.
“What am I looking at?”
“Camille wasn’t just working for Nathan.”
I read the dates.
The payments started six months before Nathan filed for divorce.
My hands went cold.
“They were already together.”
Graham nodded.
“And not secretly.”
“What do you mean?”
“She used company funds.”
I stared.
“Nathan knew?”
“That’s what we’re trying to determine.”
The room became silent.
Because suddenly, the story was bigger than an affair.
This wasn’t only about a husband leaving his wife after the birth of their daughter.
Someone had been moving money.
Creating records.
Building a story.
