Chapter 3 - THE BOMB IN THE GARDEN
The silence that fell over the garden was absolute. The soft jazz music from the band died out completely. A hundred pair of eyes shifted from Florence to the quiet, stoic housekeeper standing at the edge of the terrace.
Raymond took a aggressive step toward the patio. "Teresa, have you lost your mind? Put the microphone down and get inside before I fire you on the spot!"
"You can't fire me, Raymond," Teresa said calmly, her voice amplified through the high-end speakers. "I resigned two hours ago. But before I leave, I have a duty to Mr. Walter Miller—the man who actually built this house and paid my salary."
Florence’s face flushed a deep, ugly crimson. "Security! Get this woman off my property!"
Two hired security guards made a move toward the terrace, but Gavin quickly held up a hand to stop them, his curiosity getting the better of his judgment. "Wait. Let's hear what kind of crazy nonsense she’s talking about."
Brenda Vance clutched little Leo’s hand tighter, her polished smile flickering. "Raymond, make her stop!"
Teresa opened the manila envelope with deliberate slowness. She pulled out a stack of paper topped with a red medical seal.
"Three months ago," Teresa began, her voice steady and deliberate, "Mr. Raymond brought a paper home to show his mother. It was a DNA report from a private lab in Los Angeles, stating there was a 99.9% probability that he was the father of Leo Vance."
"It's a certified test!" Raymond shouted, his chest puffing out. "It's legal!"
"It is a certified test," Teresa agreed, looking directly at Raymond. "Except you didn't provide the sample yourself, did you, Raymond? You were terrified your mother would cut you out if you couldn't produce a male heir after Brenda refused to have another child. So when Brenda Vance told you she was pregnant four years ago, you panicked."
"Shut up!" Brenda Vance shrieked, stepping forward. "She’s lying! She’s a bitter maid!"
Teresa ignored her and pulled out the second document. "This is a bank transfer receipt dated March 14th of this year. Fifty thousand dollars transferred from the Pacific Oak operational account into the personal account of Dr. Arthur Sterling—the director of the clinic where that DNA test was processed."
Gasps rippled through the crowd of San Diego businessmen and high-society couples. Raymond’s face drained of every ounce of color.
"And this," Teresa raised a third document, "is the genuine, un-redacted genetic analysis retrieved directly from the state database under court order by Mr. Walter's estate attorney last month. Mr. Walter suspected what you were doing, Raymond. He knew you were desperate. He had your brother Gavin take a real test, too."
Raymond turned frantically to his younger brother. "Gavin? What is she talking about?"
Gavin froze, his glass of scotch hovering near his mouth. "I... I don't know..."
Teresa looked directly at Florence, her eyes full of pity and disgust. "Mrs. Miller, you were so obsessed with having a male heir to carry the 'Miller bloodline' that you never bothered to check which Miller actually fathered this child. Leo isn't Raymond's son."
The air left the garden in one collective gasp.
Florence stood paralyzed. "What... what did you say?"
Teresa looked right at Brenda Vance, whose hands were now shaking uncontrollably. "Five years ago, Brenda Vance was working as an event coordinator for Gavin’s failed nightlife company. She was sleeping with Gavin long before she ever met Raymond. When she got pregnant, she realized Gavin was broke and deep in debt. So she switched brothers. She targeted Raymond because he held shares in Pacific Oak."
Teresa pulled out the final page of the genetic report.
"Leo is Gavin’s son. Raymond is completely infertile. He has been since a bout of severe mumps when he was nineteen years old—a medical fact Mr. Walter documented in his private safe fifteen years ago."
Raymond stumbled back as if he’d been struck by lightning. He stared at Brenda Vance, his mouth open, unable to form words. "Brenda... is this... is this true?"
Brenda Vance couldn't look him in the eye. She turned her head away, her silence ringing louder than any confession.
Gavin dropped his scotch glass. It shattered against the flagstone patio, sending amber liquid and ice shards exploding across the floor.
"You..." Raymond turned on his brother, his voice rising into a primal scream. "You slept with her?! You let me think he was my son?!"
Before Gavin could react, Raymond lunged across the velvet head table, tackling his younger brother onto the grass. The champagne tower toppled over, sending hundreds of crystal flutes crashing down in a deafening cascade of breaking glass.
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Women screamed. Guests scrambled backward, pushing through the garden chairs to get to the exit. Chaos erupted across the manicured lawn of the Miller estate.
And amidst the screaming, the fistfight, and the shattering glass, Florence Miller collapsed back into her chair, her eyes wide with horror, staring at the little gold signet ring resting untouched on its velvet cushion.
