Chapter 8 - RICHARD HAYES TRIED TO BLAME MY MOTHER, BUT HIS OWN FINANCIAL RECORDS SHOWED HE HAD PLANNED TO CONTROL MY SON FOR THIRTY YEARS
Hayes cooperated selectively.
Meaning he confessed only to things investigators already proved.
He admitted moving the samples.
Admitted the trust structure.
Admitted knowing my mother concealed preservation from me.
Denied authorizing conception without my consent.
Blamed Everett Shaw.
Shaw, once extradited, blamed Hayes.
Predictable.
Then investigators found the payment.
$1.8 million from a Hayes-controlled holding company to Cascade Reproductive Medicine three weeks before Serena’s embryo transfer.
Description:
Legacy implementation.
Hard to explain.
Hayes tried.
Legal consulting.
No.
Then they found draft guardianship documents prepared before Gabriel was born.
If Luca DeLuca unavailable, incapacitated, deceased, or otherwise unable to accept immediate custody—
temporary custodial authority transferred to Richard Hayes as trustee.
My blood went cold.
“Unavailable?”
My attorney nodded.
“Broad.”
“What was he planning?”
“We don’t know.”
I did.
At least enough.
A baby alone did not make Hayes powerful.
A baby plus a dead or incapacitated father did.
I had survived three assassination attempts in twenty years.
Could Hayes simply wait?
Maybe.
Or help probability.
Investigators searched deeper.
No evidence tied Hayes to the first two attempts.
Then one item emerged.
My third attempt.
Four years ago.
A shooter fired through my car window outside a club.
Missed my head by inches.
The shooter died months later in a prison fight before trial.
At the time, intelligence pointed toward a rival crew.
Now financial records showed the rival crew received $250,000 from a construction company indirectly controlled by Hayes.
Timing:
Eight days before the shooting.
My attorney cautioned:
“Not proof.”
Good.
Again.
But enough for authorities to investigate.
I wanted Hayes in a room with me.
I denied myself.
That was becoming a habit.
Not easy.
Useful.
My mother asked to see me.
We met in the old greenhouse.
No staff.
No lawyers.
She looked thinner.
I remained standing.
“Richard says you knew everything.”
She flinched.
“I know.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Prove it.”
Not because I wanted paperwork from my mother.
Because trust had changed.
She handed me a folder.
Emails.
Notes.
Her personal journals.
I almost refused to read journals.
Then she said:
“I want you to.”
So I did.
Twelve years earlier:
Luca asked about samples. Richard says refrigeration incident explanation is safest while Luca unstable. I hate lying. Matteo says preserve option. We will tell him when things settle.
Two months later:
Luca seems better but refuses all discussion of family. Maybe waiting is mercy.
One year:
Still haven’t told him.
Three:
Now telling him would only expose how long we lied.
There.
The oldest mechanism.
The longer a secret survives, the harder people convince themselves disclosure becomes.
Then seven years ago:
Richard says trust remains dormant. Storage fees reduced.
No mention Mia.
My mother truly did not know.
That did not erase original betrayal.
It narrowed it.
Important.
I looked at her.
“You didn’t know about Mia.”
“No.”
“Gabriel.”
“No.”
“Did you ever tell Hayes he could create an heir?”
“Never.”
“Did Father?”
She looked away.
“What?”
“Your father wanted the option.”
“That is not my question.”
“He once told Richard that if medical science could preserve the line, the family should not let sentiment interfere.”
I laughed coldly.
“Sentiment.”
Meaning consent.
Meaning me.
“Did he put that in writing?”
“I don’t know.”
Investigators later found no legally valid reproductive authorization.
Good.
My mother said:
“I failed you.”
“Yes.”
No comfort.
Then:
“I failed Mia too.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because your silence gave Hayes the material.”
She cried.
“And Gabriel.”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
Then:
“What can I do?”
“Stop making apologies the center.”
She looked.
“Do what investigators ask.”
“Support the trust challenge.”
“Do not call Mia your granddaughter until she chooses what relationship she wants.”
That hurt her.
Good.
“Do not buy her things to make yourself feel forgiven.”
“I already bought—”
“Return it.”
She almost smiled through tears.
“Okay.”
Progress.
Mia was not interested in Isabella initially.
She called her “the fancy grandma.”
Rosa remained Grandma.
Good.
Isabella asked permission to visit.
Mia said:
“Can she bring cookies?”
I said:
“She can bring normal cookies.”
Isabella arrived with cookies from a grocery store.
Probably first time in forty years she bought packaged chocolate chips.
Mia ate three.
Then asked:
“Did you know about me?”
Isabella’s face broke.
“No.”
“Did you know Luca could have kids?”
“I knew doctors saved something that might make children possible.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I made a bad choice.”
Mia nodded.
“Okay.”
Children sometimes accept admissions faster than explanations.
Then:
“Don’t do it again.”
Isabella cried.
“I won’t.”
Good.
The trust case advanced.
A judge temporarily froze trustee authority.
Hayes removed.
Independent fiduciary appointed.
The male-descendant clause was challenged under public policy and conflicting amendments.
My lawyers said outcome uncertain.
I said:
“If it remains, I’ll restructure my own assets separately.”
Mia and Gabriel would be equal in anything I controlled.
No debate.
Then Serena requested something difficult.
She wanted to move to Oregon after recovery.
Start over.
But she wanted letters and photographs of Gabriel.
Maybe visits later.
I agreed.
Then she asked:
“Will you tell him how he was born?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Age-appropriate.”
“Will you tell him I abandoned him near a dumpster?”
“No.”
Her eyes filled.
“Why?”
“Because you didn’t abandon him.”
“You hid him while you were being chased.”
“Mia found him.”
“That distinction matters.”
She cried.
“Thank you.”
Then:
“Will you tell him I loved him?”
I stared.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
There.
“No contract changes that.”
“I’ll tell him.”
Good.
The criminal case against Hayes and Shaw grew.
Reproductive fraud.
Forgery.
Identity theft.
Conspiracy.
Financial crimes.
Possibly attempted murder-related investigation.
No sensational quick trial.
Real legal process.
Then prosecutors found a voicemail from Hayes to Everett Shaw recorded accidentally by clinic software six weeks before Gabriel’s birth.
Hayes:
Once paternity is acknowledged, the continuity structure is secure. If Luca remains difficult, we proceed with incapacity option.
Shaw:
What does that mean?
Hayes:
You don’t need to know.
I listened once.
That was enough.
“Incapacity option.”
Maybe financial.
Maybe medical.
Maybe violence.
Either way, Hayes had imagined a future where my son existed and I did not control my own life.
Again.
Same crime in different form.
I looked at Mia sleeping on sofa at my house, one foot resting against Mrs. Harlow’s leg.
Then Gabriel in bassinet nearby.
No.
My children would not grow up learning safety meant one powerful adult deciding everything.
May you like
Not even me.
Especially not me.
Related Stories
