Chapter 7 - The Confrontation in the Shadows
The federal prison visiting room was sterile, smelling of industrial bleach and old coffee.
I sat behind the thick plexiglass partition, waiting. It had been three months since the dinner at the chapel. In that time, the world had shifted on its axis. Callum's trial was set to begin in a week, and public opinion had turned entirely against him. The media, which once portrayed him as a dashing, successful young businessman, now wrote about him as a sociopathic predator who had tried to steal his wife’s biological child.
The heavy steel door at the back of the room opened, and Callum was led in by two guards.
He was wearing an orange jumpsuit, his wrists handcuffed to a chain around his waist. The physical decline was striking. He had lost weight, his face was hollow and gaunt, and the arrogant, confident smirk that had once been his trademark was entirely gone.
He sat down on the metal stool, the chains clinking against the seat. He picked up the telephone receiver on his side of the glass.
I picked up mine.
"Vivienne," he said, his voice raspy. "You came."
"I wanted to see you one last time before the trial, Callum," I said, my voice calm, devoid of anger or hatred. I felt only a profound, empty pity for the man sitting across from me. "I wanted to make sure you understood that there will be no plea deal for you."
He let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Blythe turned on me, didn't she? That little b*tch signed everything you put in front of her."
"Blythe chose to save herself," I replied. "Unlike you, she realized when the game was over. She has pled guilty to conspiracy and wire fraud. Her testimony will ensure that you are convicted on every single count."
Callum’s fingers tightened around the receiver, his knuckles turning white. "You think you've won, Vivienne? You think you're going to live happily ever after with that child? Every time you look at that kid, you're going to see me. You're going to see my face, my eyes, my blood."
"No, Callum," I said, a soft, confident smile appearing on my face. "I won't. Because genetically, the child has nothing to do with you. Did you really think I wouldn't run a full DNA sequencing on the embryos once I reclaimed them?"
He froze, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "What... what are you talking about? We created those embryos together during our IVF cycle."
"We did," I said. "But do you remember the second cycle? The one you claimed failed because the clinic 'lost' the viability of the samples?"
"Yes," he whispered.
"I didn't use your samples for that cycle, Callum," I said, letting the truth wash over him like a cold wave. "I had already begun to suspect your infidelity and your financial double-dealing back then. I didn't have proof yet, but my instincts told me not to bind myself to you forever. So, I instructed Dr. Whitaker—before you bribed him—to use a anonymous, high-profile donor sample I had secured independently. The embryos you stole, the ones Blythe was implanted with, are biologically mine and a donor's. They carry absolutely none of your DNA."
Callum’s jaw dropped. He stared at me through the glass, his mind desperately trying to comprehend the sheer scale of his defeat. He had ruined his career, stolen millions of dollars, committed federal crimes, and landed himself in prison—all to secure a child he believed was his biological heir, only to find out the child was completely unrelated to him.
"You... you knew," he stammered, his voice trembling with a mixture of shock and horror. "You knew all along."
May you like
"I knew," I said, standing up and placing the receiver back on its cradle. "Goodbye, Callum. Enjoy the quiet."
I turned and walked out of the room, leaving him screaming soundlessly behind the glass, his chains rattling furiously as the guards rushed to restrain him.
