Chapter 3
I didn't tell Marcus about the message immediately.
I hated myself for hesitating.
He had protected me.
He had stood against his entire family.
He had brought me to the hospital and stayed beside my bed.
But the anonymous message had planted something poisonous inside my mind.
Ask Marcus who prepared the original.
I read those words until the letters blurred.
Marcus noticed.
“What's wrong?”
I locked my phone.
“Nothing.”
He studied me.
“Nia.”
I looked away.
He sat beside my hospital bed.
“You've been through a lot tonight. You don't have to pretend you're okay.”
That almost made me cry.
Because I wanted to believe him.
I wanted to believe that my husband was exactly who I thought he was.
But I had just discovered that people could smile at dinner while secretly planning to take control of my life.
How could I know whom to trust?
I finally handed him the phone.
He read the message.
His expression changed from confusion to anger.
“Who sent this?”
“I don't know.”
He looked at the attached photograph.
Then he closed his eyes.
“Marcus?”
He didn't answer immediately.
My heart began racing.
“Do you know something about this?”
He looked directly at me.
“Yes.”
The word felt like a knife.
I pulled my hand away.
“What?”
He leaned forward.
“Three weeks ago, Mom asked me to meet a family attorney.”
My mouth went dry.
“Why?”
“She said she wanted to update her estate plan before the baby arrived.”
I stared at him.
“She didn't tell me that.”
“I know.”
“Did you go?”
“Yes.”
I felt the room spinning.
Marcus continued.
“When I arrived, Vanessa was there. She had several documents prepared.”
“What documents?”
“One concerned Mom's estate. Another supposedly involved emergency arrangements if you experienced complications during childbirth.”
I gripped the blanket.
“And you didn't tell me?”
“I refused to sign anything involving you.”
“But you saw it.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
He looked ashamed.
“Because Mom claimed it was just a draft. She said Vanessa had misunderstood what the attorney was supposed to prepare.”
I stared at him.
“You believed her?”
“No. Not completely.”
“Then why didn't you warn me?”
Marcus lowered his eyes.
“Because I thought I could handle it without frightening you.”
I couldn't speak.
He reached toward me.
I moved away.
“Nia, please.”
“Don't.”
He stopped.
My chest tightened painfully.
“Your mother and sister were preparing documents about my pregnancy, and you decided I didn't need to know?”
“I knew you'd be upset.”
“Of course I'd be upset!”
My voice cracked.
“It's my body. My child. My life!”
Marcus nodded.
“You're right.”
I stared at him.
“I need you to understand something. Protecting me doesn't mean keeping information from me.”
He swallowed.
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
For several moments, neither of us spoke.
Then he reached into his pocket.
“I photographed the papers before I left that meeting.”
My heart jumped.
“You have copies?”
He nodded.
“I wanted evidence in case they tried anything.”
“Why didn't you show me?”
He looked miserable.
“Because I kept hoping Mom would come to her senses.”
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The truth beneath everything.
Marcus had spent his life trying to keep peace with his family.
I had spent years accepting their cruelty because I didn't want to make him choose.
And now their behavior had crossed into something far more dangerous.
I opened my eyes.
“Show me everything.”
He took out his phone.
There were eleven photographs.
The first showed a proposed family trust amendment.
The second concerned temporary medical decision-making authority.
The third included a typed statement describing me as emotionally unstable.
I felt sick.
The document contained allegations that I had experienced severe mood swings, irrational fears, and difficulty making responsible decisions.
None of those claims had been supported by a medical evaluation.
Then I saw the final page.
It proposed naming Evelyn as a temporary caregiver for our child if I were deemed incapable after delivery.
I stared at it.
“They want my baby.”
Marcus shook his head.
“They can't just take her because they wrote something on paper.”
“But they're trying.”
He didn't deny it.
My tears returned.
“Why?”
Marcus looked troubled.
“I don't know everything yet.”
I studied his face.
“Tell me what you do know.”
He took a breath.
“Vanessa has been desperate for money.”
I frowned.
“Again?”
He nodded.
“Her event-planning business is in serious trouble. She's behind on rent, supplier payments, and several loans.”
“What does that have to do with our daughter?”
“I don't know. But Mom has been helping her financially.”
I remembered lending Vanessa fifteen thousand dollars two years earlier.
She promised to repay me within six months.
Instead, she bought a luxury handbag and claimed her business expenses had increased.
When I questioned her, Evelyn accused me of being selfish.
I had never recovered the money.
Now I wondered whether there was a bigger reason behind their interest in my pregnancy.
Marcus scrolled to another photograph.
It showed a page from Evelyn's proposed estate plan.
I read one paragraph.
Then another.
Suddenly, my stomach tightened.
The document described a fund intended for the first biological grandchild born into the Bennett family.
A fund established years earlier by Marcus's late grandmother.
I looked at Marcus.
“What is this?”
His expression darkened.
“My grandmother left money in trust for her descendants.”
“How much?”
He hesitated.
“Several million dollars.”
I stared at him.
“And our daughter would be a beneficiary?”
“Yes.”
“Who currently manages it?”
He closed his eyes.
“My mother.”
I felt a chill.
Before I could ask another question, the nurse returned to check my monitoring.
I forced myself to breathe slowly.
My baby's heartbeat remained reassuring.
But my mind was racing.
Vanessa had debts.
Evelyn controlled a family trust.
Our unborn daughter had an interest in that trust.
And someone had prepared documents questioning my ability to care for her.
When the nurse left, I looked at Marcus.
“I want an independent attorney.”
He nodded immediately.
“And I want every document you've photographed.”
“Of course.”
“And no more secrets.”
He took my hand carefully.
“No more secrets.”
I wanted to believe him.
But before I could answer, his phone rang.
The caller was Arthur.
Marcus put it on speaker.
His father's voice sounded strained.
“Son, you need to come home.”
Marcus frowned.
“Why?”
“Your mother and Vanessa are arguing.”
“About what?”
Arthur hesitated.
May you like
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
“Vanessa says Evelyn promised her the baby's trust money.”
