Chapter 5
I stared at Tasha.
"Victor Lane?"
She nodded slowly.
"Mom said he helped manage her investments."
Samuel leaned forward.
"Did you ever meet him privately?"
Tasha hesitated.
"Once."
My stomach tightened.
"When?"
"About six months ago."
She looked ashamed.
"He asked me to sign some paperwork."
I felt cold.
"What paperwork?"
"He said Mom was setting up a family investment account."
Samuel's expression sharpened.
"Do you have copies?"
Tasha shook her head.
"No."
"Did you understand what you signed?"
She began crying.
"Not really."
I reached for her hand.
"Tasha, why didn't you ask someone?"
She looked at me.
"Because Mom told me you were trying to take everything."
The words hurt.
Even after all these years, my mother had managed to turn us against each other.
Samuel asked Tasha to describe the meeting.
She explained that Victor had invited her to a private office.
He showed her several documents.
He told her the family was reorganizing certain assets after Grandpa's death.
And he insisted that the paperwork needed to be completed quickly.
"I asked whether Nia had to sign too," Tasha whispered.
"What did he say?" Samuel asked.
"He said Mom would handle that."
My stomach dropped.
Marcus looked at Samuel.
"Could Diane have attempted to use Nia's inheritance without authorization?"
Samuel nodded carefully.
"That is something we need to investigate."
I took a breath.
"Then let's find out."
Samuel arranged for Tasha to obtain independent legal advice before discussing or providing documents that might expose her to liability.
He also advised me to preserve the original letter and inheritance records.
The financial report would be reviewed by investigators.
I left the office feeling exhausted.
But I also felt something I hadn't expected.
Clarity.
For the first time, my mother's behavior had a history.
A pattern.
And documentary evidence.
I wasn't imagining the manipulation.
I hadn't exaggerated the cruelty.
Grandpa had seen it too.
That evening, Marcus drove me home.
Tasha came with us.
She had asked whether she could stay for a few days.
I agreed.
Our apartment had a guest bedroom.
More importantly, I wanted us to have the chance to speak without Mom controlling the conversation.
As soon as we entered, Tasha sat on the sofa and began crying.
"I'm sorry."
I placed my handbag down.
"For what?"
She looked at me.
"For believing Mom."
I sat beside her.
She continued.
"She told me you were selfish. That you thought you were better than me. That you only helped me because you wanted everyone to admire you."
My heart tightened.
"Did you believe her?"
Tasha nodded.
"Sometimes."
I looked away.
That hurt more than I wanted to admit.
She began crying harder.
"I was jealous of you."
I turned toward her.
"Why?"
"Because you were always successful."
I stared at her.
She continued.
"You got good grades. You built a career. You met Marcus. Grandpa was always proud of you."
I shook my head.
"Tasha, I spent most of my life wishing I could be you."
She looked stunned.
"What?"
"Mom loved you openly. She hugged you. She defended you. She celebrated every small thing you did."
Tears filled my eyes.
"I thought if I worked hard enough, she would treat me the same way."
Tasha covered her mouth.
We sat in silence.
Two sisters.
Raised in the same house.
Living completely different emotional lives.
Finally, Tasha whispered, "I didn't know."
"I know."
She reached for my hand.
"I want us to stop competing."
I squeezed her fingers.
"Me too."
For the first time in years, I believed we might have a real relationship.
Not the relationship Mom assigned us.
One we chose ourselves.
The following morning, my phone began ringing at seven.
Mom.
I declined the call.
She called again.
And again.
Then a message appeared.
You have poisoned your sister against me.
I stared at it.
Another message followed.
You will return that money, or I will make sure Marcus learns what kind of woman he's marrying.
My heart jumped.
What did that mean?
I showed Marcus.
He read the message.
Then he looked at me.
"She's threatening you."
I nodded.
He took a breath.
"We should preserve this."
I forwarded it to Samuel.
Then another message appeared.
Ask your fiancé what happened to his last engagement.
My stomach tightened.
I looked at Marcus.
He had been engaged once before.
I knew that.
His former fiancée, Danielle, had ended their relationship three years before we met.
Marcus told me they wanted different things.
I had never pressed him for details.
Now Mom was using that history to frighten me.
"Marcus," I whispered.
He looked at me.
"What happened with Danielle?"
His expression changed.
Not with guilt.
With sadness.
"We broke up because she wanted to move overseas, and I wanted to stay near my family."
I nodded.
"Mom says—"
He gently interrupted.
"Nia, your mother is trying to make you doubt everyone who supports you."
I stared at him.
He was right.
Still, I hated that she knew exactly where to strike.
Later that morning, Danielle called us.
She had heard from a mutual friend that Diane was contacting people from Marcus's past.
Marcus spoke with her briefly.
She confirmed that Diane had asked questions about their relationship.
Then she offered to provide a statement if false accusations emerged.
I felt embarrassed.
But Marcus simply thanked her.
After ending the call, he looked at me.
"Your mother doesn't get to destroy our relationship because she's losing control."
I nodded.
He pulled me into his arms.
Then my phone rang.
Samuel.
I answered immediately.
"Nia, we obtained records concerning the documents Tasha signed."
My heart raced.
"What did they say?"
His voice became serious.
"One document appears to authorize the release of information about your grandfather's estate."
I frowned.
"Why would Tasha sign that?"
"Because someone represented it as routine family paperwork."
I closed my eyes.
Then Samuel continued.
"But the more concerning document purports to appoint Diane as an authorized representative in connection with certain estate-related assets."
My stomach tightened.
"Could she use it to take my inheritance?"
"Not automatically. There are serious questions about its validity and scope."
I took a breath.
Then Samuel said something that made the room go silent.
"Nia, we also found a document bearing a signature that appears to be yours."
I stopped breathing.
"I never signed anything."
May you like
"I know."
Then he added, "And the notarization date is the same day you were celebrating your engagement."
