Victoria gasped, stepping back as if she had been hit.
“He’s lying, Jerry. You can’t listen to this rat. He’s just lying for money.”
But Jerry was not listening to her words. He was looking at her hands.
They were shaking.
Victoria was always the calm one. She had been through scandals and corporate wars without ever losing her cool. But right now, her hands were trembling violently.
He thought back to the last doctor’s visit. The specialist had been stumped.
“It’s like she’s being exposed to some kind of heavy metal poison,” he had said. “But that’s impossible in a home like yours.”
Nothing was impossible if the poison was coming from the person holding the spoon.
“Why are your hands shaking, Victoria?” Jerry asked softly.
“I… I’m just angry. How can you let a beggar talk to me like this?”
She reached up to touch the silver locket at her neck, but as soon as her fingers hit the metal, she yanked them away as if it were red-hot.
Jerry saw it.
The guilt. The pure terror in her eyes.
Suddenly, it all clicked.
The trust fund.
He had just changed his will. If Maya lived to eighteen, she would get everything. If something happened to her before then, it would all go to Victoria.
He had brought a monster into his daughter’s life.
“Let’s go home,” Jerry said, turning his back on her.
He picked up Maya, holding her tight against his chest.
“Jerry, wait. This is crazy,” Victoria pleaded, tripping over her heels as she tried to keep up. “You’re just stressed. You’re letting a street kid mess with your head.”
“I said we’re going home,” Jerry roared.
He turned back to the boy.
“What’s your name?”
“Jonah,” the boy replied.
Jerry pulled out a gold-embossed business card and pressed it into Jonah’s hand.
“Jonah, stay right here. I’m sending a car for you in one hour. If you stay, I will change your life. If you run, I will find you.”
Jonah just nodded.
The drive back to Banana Island was silent and suffocating. Maya fell asleep on her father’s chest, having no idea that her world had just exploded. Victoria sat on the other side of the SUV, staring out the window, her jaw tight and her hands still shaking in her lap.
When they pulled through the gates of the mansion, Jerry knew he had to be careful. Victoria was smart. If he moved too fast, she would get rid of the evidence.
“Take Maya to her room,” Jerry told the nanny the second they walked into the marble foyer. “And nobody feeds her. Not even a drop of water. You hear me?”
The nanny nodded, terrified by the look on Jerry’s face.
Victoria tried to regain her footing.
“Jerry, this is ridiculous. I’m going to make Maya’s evening soup. She needs her strength.”
“Stay away from the kitchen, Victoria,” Jerry said, his voice cold as ice. “Go to the guest room. Now.”
“Now you’re locking me up because of a beggar?” she screamed.
“I’m protecting my daughter,” Jerry replied, stepping right into her space. “If you try to leave that room, my guards will stop you.”
He did not wait for her to answer. He marched into the kitchen, grabbed the pink flask Victoria used for Maya’s meals, and unscrewed the top.
It smelled like normal chicken broth.
With shaking hands, he poured a sample into a glass jar. He pulled out his phone and dialed a private number.
“Dr. Mike,” Jerry said. “I have a sample. I need a full toxin screen immediately. I don’t care what it costs. It’s coming to you right now.”