Chapter 2 - The Interrogation of a Parasite
The fourth-floor conference room was an abandoned administrative space, devoid of windows and smelling of dust. When I walked in, Bianca was sitting in a plastic chair, sobbing hysterically while Matteo stood by the door like a stone gargoyle.
I locked the door behind me. The click echoed with finality.
I didn't yell. I walked over to the long wooden table, pulled out a chair directly across from her, and sat down. I placed the manila envelope on the table between us.
“Let’s talk about your pregnancy, Bianca,” I said, my voice dead and hollow.
Bianca sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her trembling hand. “Adrian, please. I was desperate. I knew you wanted an heir. I just wanted to be the one to give it to you. I love you.”
“You love my money,” I corrected smoothly. “You love the cars, the penthouses, the fact that restaurant owners tremble when you walk in using my last name. But let’s do some basic arithmetic. You paid Dr. Evans to fake Sofia’s infertility in October. Sofia and I finalized the divorce in March. You announced you were pregnant in June.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table.
“If you were calculating enough to forge medical records, hack clinic databases, and bribe a renowned specialist just to clear your path to my bed, I highly doubt you would leave your own pregnancy up to chance.”
Bianca went completely still. The sobbing stopped instantly.
“What are you implying?” she whispered.
“I’m not implying anything,” I said. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed my chief financial fixer, a man who could unearth the darkest secrets of the Chicago elite in minutes. He had been digging into Bianca’s accounts since Matteo dragged her upstairs. I put the phone on speaker.
“Marcus. What did you find?” I asked.
Marcus’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Boss. It’s worse than you thought. Bianca Russo hasn't just been bribing Dr. Evans. She’s been making regular payments to a man named Julian Vance. He’s a low-level club promoter she used to date three years ago.”
Bianca lunged across the table, trying to grab the phone. Matteo was there in a flash, slamming her back into the chair and pinning her shoulders.
“Keep talking, Marcus,” I said, my eyes locked on Bianca’s terrified face.
“Vance is a degenerate gambler,” Marcus continued. “We just paid him a visit. He sang like a bird. He says Bianca came to him five months ago. She offered to pay off his gambling debts if he slept with her. She needed to get pregnant fast to lock you down before you realized you still had feelings for your ex-wife.”
The silence in the room was absolute.
I looked at the woman carrying the child I had believed was my flesh and blood. The child I had set up trust funds for. The child I had bought a sprawling estate for.
It wasn't my baby.
I had divorced the love of my life, broken her heart, and driven her into hiding while she carried my actual child, all because of a whore who had bought another man’s sperm to trap me.
“Adrian,” Bianca choked out, hyperventilating. “Adrian, it doesn't matter! I can still be a good mother! We can still be a family! Please, don't kill me!”
I let out a dark, humorless laugh. “Kill you? I’m not going to kill you, Bianca. Death is far too merciful for what you’ve done.”
I stood up, buttoning my suit jacket. “Matteo. Call the FBI. Hand them the envelope with the forged medical records, the wire transfers, and the evidence of extortion. Then, call my lawyers. I want every single asset, every piece of jewelry, every cent in her bank accounts frozen and seized. She committed federal wire fraud and medical malpractice conspiracy.”
“You can't do this!” Bianca shrieked, struggling against Matteo’s grip. “I’m pregnant! A judge will show me mercy!”
“A federal judge won’t care,” I said coldly. “You’ll give birth in a federal penitentiary in a pair of handcuffs. Your bastard child will go into the foster system, and you will spend the next twenty years rotting in a concrete box. And Julian Vance? He’s already in the trunk of a car heading to the bottom of Lake Michigan.”
I walked toward the door.
“You’re a monster, Adrian!” Bianca screamed, her true, venomous nature finally clawing its way to the surface. “You deserve what’s happening to Sofia! You deserve to watch her die!”
I paused with my hand on the doorknob. I didn't look back.
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“If my wife dies,” I whispered softly, “I won’t just send you to prison, Bianca. I will buy the prison, and I will make sure you never see the sun again.”
I walked out, the sound of her screaming echoing in the empty hallway, and headed straight back to the surgical wing. I had a family to save.
