“Caleb’s biological father is Daniel Harper. Your wife’s personal trainer back in 2011.”
I remembered the gym membership. The late sessions.
“Madison likely belongs to Gregory Salazar. Her former marketing director.”
The “business trips.” The holiday parties.
“And Owen,” Grant hesitated. “Owen’s biological father is Ryan Whitaker.”
My younger brother.
I couldn’t breathe when I heard that name. Ryan had stood beside me at my wedding. He’d held Owen in the hospital.
Back in the courtroom, Judge Benton looked at Vanessa. “Are these results accurate?”
“They’re fake,” she stammered.
“These were conducted by Pacific Genomics, an accredited laboratory,” the judge replied. “I will ask you once more. Are these children biologically related to Mr. Whitaker?”
The silence stretched.
“No,” she whispered.
The word echoed.
“No, they’re not.”
Her lawyer sank into his chair. Mine stared at me in disbelief.
“But he raised them!” Vanessa cried. “He’s their father in every way that matters!”
“You allowed him to believe they were his for fifteen years,” the judge said coldly. “That is paternity fraud.”
He turned to me. “Mr. Whitaker, what relief are you seeking?”
I had imagined revenge. I had rehearsed it.