Baby Daddy Roulette

Chapter 59

Diane Chen doesn't do defeat.

"They want a media war?" She spreads documents across her conference table with the precision of a general mapping battle lines. "Fine. We give them one. But we fight smart, not loud."

It's been a week since the TMZ article. A week of hate mail and professional scrutiny and strangers on the internet debating my fitness as a mother. A week of trying to shield Aria, Elio, and Sören from the chaos swirling around our family. But Diane has been working—quietly, relentlessly—and now she's ready to show us what she's found.

"The doorman," she says, tapping a photograph on the table. "Marcus Webb. Their star witness who claims he saw you enter Cassian's building for the supposed reconciliation."

"He's lying."

"Obviously. But now we can prove it." She slides a document toward me. "Webb was terminated from the building three months after he gave his statement. Officially for 'performance issues.' Unofficially, because management discovered he'd accepted a five-thousand-dollar cash payment from an outside party two weeks before he gave his testimony."

My heart stutters. "You can prove Cassian paid him?"

"We can prove someone paid him. The money came from an LLC registered in Delaware—anonymous on the surface, but I have forensic accountants who love nothing more than unraveling these puzzles. They traced it back to a shell company that shares a registered address with Cassian's management agency."

Axel leans forward. "That's witness tampering."

"That's exactly what it is." Diane's smile is sharp. "Combined with the deposition leak—which we've traced to someone in Brennan's office—we have a pattern of coordinated bad faith. Fabricated evidence, purchased testimony, strategic media manipulation."

"What does that mean for the lawsuit?" Mateo asks.

"It means we counter. Hard. Not just for the harassment claims we already filed, but for fraud, conspiracy, and abuse of process." She pulls out another document. "We're also filing an emergency motion to have Cassian's original lawsuit dismissed with prejudice. The evidence tampering alone should be grounds."

I stare at the paperwork. Weeks of feeling powerless, of being attacked from every angle, and suddenly we have weapons.

"What about the DNA testing?" I ask. "If the lawsuit is dismissed, does that go away?"

"That's more complicated." Diane's expression sobers. "The court may still order testing as a separate matter, particularly if Cassian files an independent paternity claim. But here's the thing—if we can prove the entire lawsuit was built on fraud, any paternity claim becomes tainted by association. Judges don't like being manipulated."

"So we might win."

"We have a real chance. Better than we had last week."

The meeting continues—strategy sessions, timeline planning, witness lists. By the end, my head is spinning with legal terminology and contingency plans. But underneath the overwhelm, something else is growing.

Hope.

We leave Diane's office with marching orders and renewed determination. In the elevator, Mateo takes my hand.

"We're going to beat him," he says. "I can feel it."

"Don't jinx it."

"I'm not jinxing. I'm manifesting." He grins—the first real grin I've seen from him in weeks. "Cassian thought he could break us with money and lawyers and media bullshit. He didn't count on us being too stubborn to stay broken."

"He didn't count on Diane Chen," Axel adds. "That woman is terrifying."

"In the best way," I agree.

The next few days are a flurry of activity. Diane files her motions. The countersuit makes headlines—smaller than the TMZ leak, but present. The narrative starts to shift. No longer just "polyamorous scandal" but "athlete's ex accused of fabricating evidence."

I give exactly one interview. Carefully controlled, pre-approved questions, Diane sitting just off-camera ready to intervene if anything goes sideways. I don't defend my lifestyle or apologize for my choices. I don't try to explain polyamory to people who've already made up their minds. I simply tell the truth.

"Cassian Drummond has spent months trying to destroy my reputation because I had the audacity to leave him after discovering his infidelity. He fabricated evidence. He paid a witness to lie. He leaked confidential legal documents to humiliate me publicly." I look directly at the camera, letting them see the exhaustion and determination in equal measure. "I'm not asking for sympathy. I'm asking for accountability. I'm asking for the same standard we would apply to anyone else who weaponizes the legal system against their ex-partner."

The interview airs on a Wednesday. By the next morning, three former employees of Cassian's management agency have reached out to Diane offering to corroborate our claims. By Friday, a prominent sports journalist publishes an investigation into Cassian's history of aggressive legal tactics against ex-partners—a pattern that goes back nearly a decade.

I'm not the first woman he's tried to destroy. I'm just the first one fighting back publicly.

"Two others settled," Diane tells me over the phone. "Took payouts and signed NDAs. But their lawyers are willing to provide anonymous background confirmation of his patterns."

"Why are they helping now?"

"Because you're winning. People like to back winners, especially when the loser is someone they've been afraid of for years."

It's a cynical truth, but I'll take it. Whatever gets us through this.

The emergency motion hearing is scheduled for the following Tuesday. Diane prepares me for testimony—not the grueling deposition kind, but a brief statement about the impact of Cassian's actions on my life and family.

"Keep it human," she advises. "Judges respond to genuine emotion, not legal arguments. That's my job. Your job is to remind them that there are real people being hurt by these tactics."

I practice in front of Axel and Mateo. Tell them about the hate mail that arrives daily, the professional review hanging over my career, the way Aria has started clinging tighter because she senses something is wrong even if she can't name it. Tell them about the nightmares that jolt me awake at 3 AM and the anxiety that lives in my chest like a permanent resident and the constant fear that everything we've built could be destroyed by a man who can't accept that I moved on.

By the end, my voice is shaking. I hate how vulnerable it makes me feel, exposing our private pain for strategic advantage.

"That's perfect," Axel says quietly when I finish. "That's exactly what they need to hear."

"I hate that our private pain has to become public ammunition."

"I know. But it's almost over." He pulls me close, and I let myself sink into his steadiness. "One more battle. Then we can start healing for real."

One more battle.

I've been fighting for so long I've almost forgotten what peace feels like. But sitting between Axel and Mateo, watching them support each other as much as they support me, I can almost imagine it.

A life without Cassian's shadow. A family that's truly ours. A future built on choice instead of chaos.

Tuesday arrives faster than expected. I put on my best professional outfit—navy dress, minimal jewelry, the appearance of calm competence. Diane meets us at the courthouse with final instructions.

"Remember," she says. "Human. Honest. Let the evidence speak, but remind them why it matters."

"I'm ready."

I'm not sure I am. But I've been not-ready for months, and I've survived anyway.

One more battle.

Let's finish this.