Page 30 of Open Secrets (Infidelity #5)

I drop my purse onto a chair like I own the place. “Well, you asked my husband to ‘take care of you.’ I came to ask exactly what that means.”

She tries to puff her chest, but the effect is ruined when her hand drifts to her stomach. “He owes something to his child,” she says, rubbing her belly like a stage prop.

I bite my lip, then nod. “You’re right. A child deserves a father.”

That makes her blink. “You… agree?”

“I can’t imagine a child going without,” I say, sitting down in the other chair. Calm. Steady. While she sinks back onto the bed, leaning on one hand like she suddenly needs the support. “But you have to understand—before any ‘taking care of’ is done, I’ll require proof.”

Her hand freezes on her stomach. “Proof?”

“You can’t seriously believe we’d just hand you our hard-earned money without knowing for sure that baby is his.”

And just like that, her face changes. The nervous girl act drops, replaced with a smirk that makes my skin crawl.

“It won’t matter,” she says coldly. “Once I go to his commander, it won’t matter if this baby is his or not.”

I nod slowly. “You’re right. It won’t matter. They’ll take his benefits. We’ll probably lose the house. Spiral into debt. Be desperate.”

I lean forward, my smile razor sharp.

“And when we’re desperate, what better lifeline than suing the woman who destroyed our family over a lie?”

Her eyes widen, the smirk faltering. “What do you mean?”

I tilt my head. “I mean we’ll sue you in the court of law. For blackmail. For defamation. For every last cent you cost us. And when the paternity test proves the baby isn’t his?” My voice drops, cutting. “You’ll be the one left ruined.”

Cece stutters, her bravado slipping. “Y-you won’t win. He did fuck me. How can you sit there and defend him?”

I lean back in the chair, crossing my legs like I’ve got all the time in the world. “Oh, sweetheart,” I say softly, almost pitying. “I’m not defending him. Trust me—I could kill him myself half the time.”

Her brows knit in confusion, and I let the silence stretch just long enough before leaning forward again, voice sharp as glass.

“I’m defending us . My kids. My family. The life we built that you think you can bulldoze for a quick payout.”

Her mouth opens, then closes. She wasn’t expecting that.

Then her lips curl, desperate to claw back power. “You weren’t there. The way he touched me, the way he kept coming back. He just couldn’t get enough of me.”

The words hit, sharp and cruel, meant to sink deep. But all they do is ignite something steady inside me.

“You think screwing a married man makes you powerful?” I shake my head, laughing under my breath. “All it makes you is sloppy. Did you even do your research before you came here?”

She blinks, confused.

“Our daughter had leukaemia,” I continue, my voice dropping, cold and steady. “Her treatment cost nearly a million dollars. We are up to our eyeballs in debt. We don’t have the money you’re demanding.”

Her eyes narrow, trying to recover. “Your daughter was sick? You’re lying. Soldiers have insurance.”

“They do,” I nod. “For standard treatment. Not the miracle my daughter needed.”

I stand, my chair scraping back across the carpet. My pulse hammers but I keep my voice calm, lethal. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad for us. I’m telling you because I want you to understand—I will do anything to protect my children.”

I step closer, close enough that she leans back on the bed, her hand pressing to her stomach like a shield.

“It’s a feeling you’ll know soon enough,” I say.

“So you can do one of two things. You can go back to wherever you came from and find the real father. Or you can keep trying to extort my family for money and I will make sure you cannot walk into a bank, cannot get a job without a lawyer breathing down the back of every application. I’ll sue you for blackmail.

For defamation. For every dollar you earn. ”

Her mouth works. The practiced answers fail. She scrambles for a different angle. “If I go to his commander—he’ll be finished. He’ll lose his benefits and you’ll be left with nothing.”

“Maybe.” I let the possibility rest there.

“Maybe the Army will punish him. That’s between him and his conscience and the Chain of Command.

” My voice is rough now, close to pleading and then colder.

“But if you go to the commander without evidence, and then we prove the baby isn’t his, what happens to you?

You stand in court and say you lied. You stand in front of lawyers and judges and say you wanted to ruin a family.

What will you tell your child when they ask why their mother destroyed other people’s lives for money? ”

Cece looks small in the hotel light. The fame of her fantasy slips. She’s left with the baby and a robe and nothing else.

“You’re bluffing,” she whispers, too soft now to be dangerous.

“No.” I reach into my purse and show her the screen, still recording. “I’ve been recording since the moment I walked in. With this and the paternity test, it won’t be hard to prove malicious intent.”

Her jaw works. “You can’t—”

“I will if I have to. That’s up to you.”

She stares like a goldfish. The silence stretches and then snaps.

“I came here to make my point,” I say. “And I have.”

With that I turn and walk away, hoping this will be the last time I have to see her.