Three days later, the internet exploded with the story of “The Battle for Baby
Vance.”
In a tear–streaked livestream, Julian told a carefully crafted story to millions. In his version, I was the cheating villain who had run off with his child, lied about her age, and maliciously kept her from her real father. Adrian was painted as a shameless predator who destroyed a family and took pleasure in raising another
3/9
06:18
Chapter 2
man’s daughter.
05.39
The story went viral. The stock of Adrian’s company, Hale Industries, took a sma-
Il but noticeable dip.
Julian called me, his voice dripping with triumph. “Regretting it yet?”
Regret what? I had a brilliant, loving daughter, a gentle and devoted husband, and a thriving career. If not for Julian’s insane crusade, my life would be perfect.
For the first time since he’d reappeared, I offered him a piece of genuine advice, hoping to bring this circus to an end. “Julian, stop this. Before you make a comp- lete fool of yourself.”
He laughed, misinterpreting my warning as fear. “Divorce that bum right now, Elara, or I swear you will never see your daughter again.”
Before I could respond, another voice chimed in–a soft, saccharine tone I reco- gnized instantly. “Elara, please stop being so stubborn. Julian nearly died from a broken heart looking for you all these years. He’s the father of your child, your childhood sweetheart. You can’t just throw away twenty years of history becau- se you found a new man!”
It was Melissa Monroe, Julian’s assistant, her voice full of crocodile tears, paint- ing me as a cruel shrew who was tormenting poor, lovesick Julian.
Julian’s voice turned hard again. “You hear that, Elara? Are you ready to admit you were wrong?”
I couldn’t hold it back any longer. A cold, sharp laugh burst from my lips. “Julian! The only one here who needs to admit they’re wrong is you.”
I hung up the phone.
06.39
man’s daughter.
The story went viral. The stock of Adrian’s company, Hale Industries, took a sma-
Il but noticeable dip.
Julian called me, his voice dripping with triumph. “Regretting it yet?”
Regret what? I had a brilliant, loving daughter, a gentle and devoted hustand,
and a thriving career. If not for Julian’s insane crusade, my life would be perfect.
For the first time since he’d reappeared, I offered him a piece of genuine advice,
hoping to bring this circus to an end. “Julian, stop this. Before you make a comp-
lete fool of yourself.”
He laughed, misinterpreting my warning as fear. “Divorce that bum right now,
Elara, or I swear you will never see your daughter again.”
Before I could respond, another voice chimed in–a soft, saccharine tone I reco-
gnized instantly. “Elara, please stop being so stubborn. Julian nearly died from a
broken heart looking for you all these years. He’s the father of your child, your
childhood sweetheart. You can’t just throw away twenty years of history becau-
se you found a new man!”
It was Melissa Monroe, Julian’s assistant, her voice full of crocodile tears, paint- ing me as a cruel shrew who was tormenting poor, lovesick Julian.
Julian’s voice turned hard again. “You hear that, Elara? Are you ready to admit
you were wrong?”
I couldn’t hold it back any longer. A cold, sharp laugh burst from my lips. “Julian! The only one here who needs to admit they’re wrong is you.”
1 hung up the phone.
