Page 115 of Resolute

My mouth forms a perfect “O” as I read the cover:“Billionaire Vicente Godoy Ties the Knot in a Private Ceremony with a Mystery Woman—Exclusive Photos Inside.”

I forget about the coffee and head straight to Vicente’s office, but before I can make it there, Samantha calls me back.

“Camila, you got this letter.” She extends the envelope to me.

I grab it, and when I read who sent it, my confusion ramps up.

“It’s a law firm,” Samantha adds when she sees me staring at the paper.

What would a law firm want to do with me?

I turn around and start again for Vicente’s office.

I don’t even bother knocking—I just walk right in.

When he lifts his gaze and sees it’s me, a gorgeous smile spreads across his lips.

Damn, I love this man.

“What’s wrong?” he asks when I don’t return the smile.

“Did you know we’re on the cover of at least one gossip magazine?” I say, shaking.

His eyes go wide as his eyebrows shoot to the sky.

“Samantha came in this morning with this.” I pass him the magazine and take a seat on the sofa across from his desk to open the envelope.

Camila Flores,

You are hereby notified that the most notable Owen Clarke has retained our legal services concerning the paternity of the minor, Ava Flores.

Mr. Clarke asserts that he is the biological father of the minor, and, as such, formally requests a paternity test to establish his parental rights. He seeks visitation and shared custody of the minor.

Failure to comply with this request will result in a lawsuit against you, in which Mr. Clarke will seek full custody of the minor, Ava Flores.

Please contact our office at your earliest convenience to address this matter. You may reach us via email at [email protected].

Sincerely,

The office of Charles Shulz & Derrick Watt

London, United Kingdom

I hear Vicente talking loudly with someone on the phone, but I’m in complete shock.

How can this man pretend he’s my baby’s father?

He knows we were done way before I got pregnant. Why is he doing this? I’ll die if someone tries to take Ava from me.

When I look at Vicente, he hangs up the phone and rushes to me. “Camila, what is it?”

Unable to use words, I pass the letter to him.

“Fuck!” Vicente shouts as he stands, balling up the letter before tossing it to the floor.

When he looks at me, he kneels in front of me and wipes a tear off my cheek I didn’t even realize had fallen.

“He’s just bluffing. There are no legal grounds for him to request such nonsense,” he says, kissing my temple.

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