Watching Desmond carefully, Nick added, “New Zealand law requires the baby’s real mother to be listed on the birth certificate. Jilly bribed the midwife who tended to the baby’s birth to state that Jilly was the baby’s mother.” When Candace had first claimed to be Jennie’s mother, Nick had known it was impossible. According to the birth certificate, Jilly was Jennie’s mother. Jilly’s journal had solved another piece of the puzzle.
Heaven knew what else Jilly had done.
It was time to play his hand. “The baby’s birth certificate will be corrected.” He hoped to attend to the change quietly. Jennie’s status as Candace’s daughter was something he intended to handle as tactfully as he could. “Do you want your daughter’s fraud to be made public? The fact that she lied to me, her husband, about being pregnant while forging my consent to a surrogacy arrangement? About bribing medical practitioners to go along with fertilizing another woman’s egg and implanting it offshore into that woman without my knowledge and consent? About paying off a midwife to falsify a birth certificate? Do you want people to know how mentally frail she was? How your years of emotional neglect affected her?”
Desmond started to object, then he stopped.
“You’ve worked to build a media image as a philanthropist, a devoted father to Jilly. Desmond, do you want that tainted?” Nick pressed on. “Do you want the real story of your troubled relationship with your daughter made public? The facts of how she manipulated the surrogate system exposed, along with how she bribed medical officials?”
Holding his breath, Nick waited. Would it be enough to persuade Desmond to back down?
“No,” Desmond conceded at last. He tossed aside the pen he’d been fiddling with, and spat out, “I’d rather she was remembered as the beautiful, happy woman she was before she married you.”
Nick nodded. “I was not the right man for her—there can be no doubt about that.” He regretted the years he and Jilly had both wasted. From Jilly’s journal he’d learned that in her way she did love him, and she’d come to realize her mistake in forcing him into a union he didn’t want. That had been one of the motivations for a baby. To bring them closer together. She’d thought that Nick needed a child—she’d viewed him as a great prospective father. That had deeply touched Nick, giving him a way forward to remember Jilly in a kinder way.
And Jilly had done more…
“Inside Jilly’s journal, I also discovered a codicil Jilly added to her will, leaving her stock in Valentine’s to me.” The codicil was dated shortly before Jennie was born. Nick was grateful she’d taken time to create it.
Desmond picked up the pen again. “My lawyer told me Jilly had instructed him to draw up a codicil, but he didn’t have the signed document. We decided she’d had second thoughts.”
“She signed it. And it’s witnessed. It’s valid. I’ve sent it to my lawyer,” Nick said. “He’ll communicate with the lawyer handling Jilly’s estate.”
After a long moment, Desmond gave a sigh. He looked less arrogant—and much older—than when Nick had first entered the large corner office. “It looks like there’s not much for me to say.”
“You’ll drop the suit for custody?”
Desmond gave a terse nod.
“You will agree to speak to NorthPark about having Alison and Richard’s eviction notice revoked?” Again a nod. “And you will stop pursuing Valentine stock?”
“I’ll do what you want.” There was still anger on the older man’s face.
Nick reminded himself that Desmond had lost his daughter tragically, unexpectedly, and whatever their convoluted father-daughter relationship, he’d loved Jilly in his own way.
Although Nick wanted as little as possible to do with Desmond in the future, he didn’t want the man to be an enemy, forever scheming how to hurt him. There’d been a moment earlier when he’d itched to hit Desmond; he was relieved that he hadn’t.
It would’ve made him less of a man in his own eyes—and he knew that Candace would’ve hated to hear that he’d used violence against a father who must still be grieving.
Bottom line: he wanted the feud with Jilly’s father to be over. To that end he said, “I plan to build a children’s playground at the flagship Valentine’s in Jilly’s memory.” Desmond studied him warily. “I’d like you to open it—I’ll make sure the event has plenty of publicity.”
“Jilly would’ve appreciated that. Thank you.” The anger started to fade from Desmond’s face. “Perhaps you could build a bench somewhere with a plaque dedicating it to her. She loved flowers.”