My Maid of Honor Hid Her Son Under My Honeymoon Bed—Then I Found Her Wearing My Wedding Dress

The legal victory at the courthouse was only the first half of the battle. Scott was in custody, but the rot he had planted inside Vance Logistics ran deep.

At 7:00 PM that evening, Julian Croft walked into my penthouse office holding a decrypted file from the Manhattan DA’s office.

“Scott’s offshore courier was intercepted at JFK an hour ago,” Julian said, setting a black tablet on my desk. “He was carrying two hard drives and three duplicate bearer bond certificates totaling eighteen million dollars.”

I looked up from my laptop. “Were they Vance Logistics bearer bonds?”

“Yes. But there’s a problem. One certificate—the primary bond for twelve million dollars, issued against the Pier 9 automated logistics terminal—is missing.”

“Missing? How?”

“Scott didn't have it on him when he was arrested. And it wasn't in the courier's bag.” Julian leaned in closer. “Allison’s lawyer just reached out with an urgent message from the holding facility. Allison wants to speak to you. Privately. She says she knows where the bond is, but she will only tell you.”

Thirty minutes later, Julian and I sat in a windowless interrogation room at the Manhattan Detention Complex.

Allison sat across from us, wearing a standard orange inmate uniform. Her bandaged hand rested on the metal table. She looked smaller, stripped of the glamour and false elegance she had worn for the past two years.

“Thank you for coming, Claire,” Allison whispered, her voice hoarse.

“Where is the bond, Allison?” I asked, keeping my voice level, without anger or warmth.

“Scott has a secondary partner,” Allison said, her eyes darting toward the two-way mirror. “Someone inside your terminal security team. A man named Victor Ruiz.”

My blood ran cold. Victor Ruiz was my grandfather’s former head of terminal security—a man who had been with Vance Logistics for fifteen years.

“Ruiz?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Victor was like family to my grandfather.”

“Scott found out Ruiz had massive gambling debts in Atlantic City eight months ago,” Allison explained rapidly. “Scott bought the debt through an LLC. Ruiz has been Scott’s inside man at the harbor. The twelve-million-dollar bond is hidden inside the high-security server vault at Pier 9. Scott planned to have Ruiz wire the terminal assets to an account in Panama tonight at midnight, before the court freeze officially locked the domestic servers.”

I looked at Julian. He was already typing furiously on his phone.

“The port servers reboot for maintenance at midnight,” Julian confirmed, looking up with grim urgency. “If Ruiz has the master root key and the bearer bond, he can execute an automated asset liquidation that bypasses the board's digital signatures.”

“Call the Port Authority Police,” I ordered, standing up.

“No!” Allison gasped, leaning across the table. “If Ruiz sees police cruisers approaching the pier, he’ll initiate the terminal’s emergency purge protocol. He told Scott that if anything went sideways, he would wipe the logistics server arrays to cover his tracks. Claire... if those servers are wiped, Vance Logistics loses ten years of supply chain manifests. It will bankrupt the company.”

I stared at Allison. “Why are you telling me this?”

Allison’s lips trembled. “Because Caleb is with you. Scott tried to use my baby as garbage. You gave him a home. You gave me a chance to see him again someday.” She reached out, her fingers stopping an inch before my hand, not daring to touch me. “Don't let Scott destroy your grandfather’s legacy, Claire. Stop Ruiz.”