Chapter 14 - The First Hearing
The courthouse was swarmed by reporters,
their cameras flashing like strobe lights as Marcus and I arrived separately.
Marcus looked every bit the billionaire,
dressed in a bespoke suit,
surrounded by his team of lawyers.
I arrived with my children in a separate car,
not to bring them into the courtroom,
but to ensure they were safely tucked away in a private room with Dana.
Inside the courtroom,
the air was thick with the scent of old paper and the heavy weight of the law.
The judge,
a stern woman named Sarah Jenkins,
looked over the documents with a frown.
"Mr. Reynolds,"
she began,
her voice echoing in the chamber.
"You are seeking a declaration of paternity and an immediate visitation schedule?"
"I am,
Your Honor,"
Marcus said,
standing up and putting on his best 'reformed father' face.
"I was young,
I was misled,
and I was told that the pregnancy had been terminated.
Now that I know the truth,
I want to do right by my children."
I felt a surge of nausea at his blatant lies.
My lawyer,
Arthur,
stood up.
"Your Honor,
we have evidence that contradicts every word Mr. Reynolds just spoke.
We have phone records,
emails,
and even a signed statement from his own mother."
Marcus’s head snapped toward the back of the room,
where Patricia sat,
her eyes fixed on the floor.
His face went pale.
"What?"
he hissed,
looking at his lawyer.
Silas Vane looked equally surprised.
"Furthermore,"
Arthur continued,
"we have the divorce decree from eight years ago,
where Mr. Reynolds explicitly checked the box stating there were no children of the marriage,
despite being served with a medical confirmation of pregnancy two weeks prior."
The judge looked at Marcus,
her expression hardening.
"Is this true,
Mr. Reynolds?"
"I...
I was under duress!"
Marcus stammered.
"I didn't know it was quadruplets!
That changes things!"
"Does it?"
the judge asked,
leaning forward.
"Does the number of children change the fundamental duty of a parent?
Does one child deserve abandonment,
but four deserve a billionaire’s attention?"
The gallery whispered,
and I saw a reporter scribbling furiously in the front row.
I stood up,
ignoring the frantic look from my own lawyer.
"Your Honor,"
I said,
my voice clear and resonant.
"This man doesn't want to be a father.
He wants to be a hero in his own story.
He wants to use my children to fix the mess he made of his public image.
But my children are not PR tools.
They are human beings who have spent eight years without a single word from him."
I looked directly at Marcus,
my eyes burning with a decade of unshed tears.
"He says he 'didn't know'.
But he knew.
He knew I was alone.
He knew I was scared.
And he didn't care until it started to cost him money."
The judge banged her gavel,
but the silence that followed was even more powerful.
Marcus looked around the room,
realizing that he was losing.
May you like
He wasn't the powerful heir here.
He was just a man who had failed the simplest test of humanity.
