Chapter 6 More Classes

Anthony left the firm and got into his car. There was some time left until 3 p.m., so he texted Lawrence, "Are you at the office? I'll be there in 30 minutes."

"Yeah, come over," Lawrence texted back.

…

Anthony parked his car at Waterside Police Department and waltzed up to the third floor. He knocked on the door before going in. "Lawrence?"

Lawrence was behind his desk, writing something. He looked up and threw his pen at Anthony. "Mind your words! We're at the WSPD. Call me Mr. Grayman."

Anthony ignored him, rolling his eyes. He took a seat on the couch and made coffee for himself.

They were both childhood friends, but Lawrence attended the police academy, while Anthony went to college in Bresenia.

Lawrence started out as a humble cop and worked his way up to deputy chief, while Anthony fell from riches to rags.

Lawrence went around his desk and tossed an expensive cigarette to Anthony. "So, what brings you here?"

Anthony grabbed the cigarette, lit it up, and took a deep drag. A cloud of nicotine took a swim in his lungs before he slowly exhaled a ring of smoke. He was in no hurry to speak.

He had spent the better part of the ride here coming up with a speech, but he found that he was at a loss for words now that he was here.

"Well…" he started. "I'm getting a divorce."

Lawrence straightened up from his seat, wholly surprised. "Is this about the debt again? That explains why you're looking for a lawyer. Do you want some help? I can't squeeze out three million, but I can wrangle out two."

Anthony shook his head and pressed his cigarette against the ashtray. He squished it so hard that his knuckles went white from the force. He was so out of it that he didn't stop, even when the cigarette butt was pulverized.

"Lawrence…"

Lawrence dropped his cavalier act.

The last time Anthony used that tone with him was during the night of his family's bankruptcy seven years ago. He was crouched by the road when he called out to him, his voice strangled.

"Timothy's not mine." There went what was left of the cigarette butt.

The air in the office became tense as silence fell upon the two men.

Lawrence didn't move a muscle as he watched Anthony try to string his words together. Meanwhile, Anthony remained in place, watching the ashes in the ashtray.

"Did you run a DNA test?" Lawrence uttered in a low voice.

"Yeah. I'm not the father."

Lawrence took a deep breath and rose to his feet. He walked up to the window, and the scenery of Waterside unfurled beneath. It was the end of October, and the sun was already moving down west. Police cars drove off into the sunset, but the sirens weren't blaring.

He stood with his back turned to Anthony. After a beat, he turned around. "Does your wife know you know?"

"No."

"So, what's the plan?"

Finally, Anthony raised his head. "The divorce is happening. The houses are already in their names, but I want them back. I want all the money I spent on her back."

Anthony's voice was calm. One would even say it was too calm.

Lawrence stared at him. He knew that look in Anthony's eyes. It was the same one Anthony had when his family went bankrupt. It was the look that said that he'd repressed all his emotions.

"Do you have enough evidence to nail her?"

"I had the paternity test done privately, plus her lover's details." Anthony let out a breath before continuing, "Darius Thompson, 32 years old, runs a renovation company, freshly divorced. The PI's looking further into his case."

Lawrence sank into the couch and picked up the pack of cigarettes on the table. He tapped the box twice on the table, pulled one out, and lit it up as another stretch of silence ensued.

He only spoke when he'd smoked nearly half of the cigarette. "It'll be hard to convict her of bigamy. You'll need very specific evidence to make that happen.

"I'm talking about the fact that she cohabits with another person as a couple, statements from their neighbors, and the records of their residence."

Lawrence took another drag and continued, "However, you can sue her for fraud and make her pay for emotional damages and reimburse you for child support. If you make it work, she'll be looking at a high six-figure to seven-figure bill.

"You'll have to get your hands on three things, though. Voluntary or notarized proof of paternity, evidence of Linda's fraudulent activities, and receipts or other records documenting the money you've transferred to her in the name of child support."

Anthony's confidence grew upon hearing those words.

After all, Lawrence had worked with the force for ten years, which meant that his assessment regarding his situation was a hundred times more reliable than whatever analysis Anthony could ever dig up online.

"I need your help on this."

"Go on."

"I want her chat history, specifically between her and that man."

Lawrence flicked his cigarette over the ashtray. "I'll do my best to make it happen if that's all you need. I can talk to the guys at Cyber and have them pull up the backups on the servers.

"If they didn't delete their accounts, we might be able to recover stuff that dates back three years."

Anthony heaved a sigh of relief as he sank into the couch.

Lawrence made some coffee.

Steam billowed from the pot. Soon, the bitter aroma of coffee beans spread across the air. He poured a cup for Anthony and another for himself.

They each picked a cup, but neither took a sip.

"Oh, right." Lawrence changed the subject. "A guy from high school showed up. We got to talking, and Genevieve was brought up."

Anthony's fingers froze around the cup.

That name once again pulled memories from the depths of Anthony's mind. He could still feel the cold from early winter back when he was 24 years old.

…

They had stood before the town government's staff housing. She wasn't wearing her usual ponytail. Instead, her hair tumbled down her back as she waited for him under the maple tree, her face covered in tear tracks.

He remembered her jumping into his arms and kissing him as hard as she could when he said he wanted to break up. He could still feel the softness of her lips on his as her scent lingered around his nose.

His family had gone bankrupt soon after, and he was forced to get married to someone he didn't care for. Eventually, memories of them became buried under layers and layers of debris.

…

"The past doesn't matter now." Anthony's eyes darkened as he drained the cup. Then, he stood up. "I'll see you when I see you. It's time to give that boy some fatherly love."

Lawrence knew what Anthony was intending to do. He rose to his feet and warned solemnly, "Don't do anything stupid. There are things that even I can't protect you from."

"You think I'd stoop that low? I still have a whole life ahead of me, and I want it to be peaceful and quiet." Anthony grinned and opened the door.

He had two billion waiting for him. Only an idiot would commit any crimes of passion. Linda and Darius weren't worth dirtying his hands for.

The X5 drove toward the boy's school.

Waterside was big, but it was only a ten-minute drive from WSPD to that damned school. When he got there, he parked the car in the parking lot beside the school. Then, he got out and scanned all the training centers that lined the street.

He checked the centers one after another, his eyes resting on the photos of award-winning children in the window. He quirked his lips into a kindly smile, making himself look like a doting father.

Then, he went into the fencing center and took a flyer. He also went into the robotics class next door and signed a certain someone up for classes.

The cello center's receptionist was a young lady. She even happily added him on WhatsApp and told him he could schedule a trial class for Timothy.

Anthony went from one center to the next before finally standing by the road, grinning toothily as he flipped through the stack of colorful flyers in his hand. After all, there was nothing wrong with learning a few more skills.

Children should have all the advantages they could get.

Timothy was six years old, and he was at the perfect age to learn new things. It was best to train him in multiple aspects. The cello could temper his patience, while the robotics class could help him with his logical thinking, and fencing could train his body.

Anthony had put a great deal of thought into this, making sure to have an extracurricular class to target every aspect of Timothy's growth. He wasn't planning anything malicious. He just wanted his dear son to have a bright future.

His eyes sharpened as he folded the flyers and tucked them into his pocket.

That flinty glint in his eyes was gone by the time he got back to the school entrance to wait for Timothy. Suddenly, his phone buzzed.

Rachel had sent him a text. "Fly straight to Porton tomorrow at 9 a.m. The ticket's already been paid for, and remember to bring your ID."

He just had to wait one more day, and the Bitcoin would turn into droves of cash. Once the first 25 million Amestrian dollars hit his account, he would finally be able to get the ball rolling.