Chapter 3
The first thing I did was call the bank.
Not Marcus.
Not Vanessa.
The bank.
I had spent enough time listening to lies.
Now I wanted documents.
Patricia sat beside me while we contacted the business banking department.
The representative confirmed that the withdrawal request had been received but placed under review.
I nearly cried.
"Has any money left the account?"
"Not through that request, Mrs. Bennett."
I closed my eyes.
Thank God.
The representative continued.
"The transaction requires additional verification."
Patricia asked several questions.
Then we arranged to submit the relevant court filings and disputed authorization information through the bank's formal process.
When the call ended, I leaned back in my chair.
My hands were shaking.
Three hundred thousand dollars.
Marcus had tried to move it hours after receiving the divorce papers.
I stared at Patricia.
"He knows."
She nodded.
"He knows you're investigating."
I swallowed.
"And he's panicking."
She considered that.
"Possibly. But we need to focus on what we can prove."
I nodded.
Then I opened my laptop.
For years, Marcus had controlled the day-to-day operations of Bennett Construction Group.
But I was still a shareholder.
I'd helped build the company.
I'd attended investor meetings.
I'd reviewed budgets.
And although I'd stepped back after Lily was born, I retained access to certain records.
I logged into the company's financial portal.
Then opened the vendor database.
V Holdings appeared near the top.
I clicked it.
Invoices filled the screen.
Consulting fees.
Marketing strategy.
Business development.
Executive support.
The descriptions were vague.
Too vague.
I opened the first invoice.
Forty-eight thousand dollars.
The second.
Thirty-two thousand.
The third.
Seventy-five thousand.
I stared at the dates.
Several invoices had been approved while Marcus was supposedly traveling for construction projects.
I checked the supporting documents.
There were no deliverables attached.
No reports.
No signed project summaries.
Just invoices.
I felt sick.
Then I noticed something else.
A vendor contact number.
I recognized it immediately.
It was Vanessa's personal phone number.
I sat perfectly still.
For eighteen months, Marcus had been telling me the company was struggling.
He'd complained about rising costs.
Delayed payments.
Tight cash flow.
He'd insisted we postpone our family vacation.
He'd told me we couldn't afford the summer program Noah wanted to attend.
And all that time, hundreds of thousands of dollars had been going to his mistress.
I began crying.
Not because of the money alone.
Because of the lies.
Every sacrifice I'd made suddenly looked different.
I remembered telling Lily we couldn't buy the bicycle she wanted for her birthday.
Marcus had said we needed to be responsible.
I remembered Noah asking why Daddy never came to his soccer games.
Marcus said business was demanding.
Now I wondered how many of those missed games had been spent with Vanessa.
Patricia touched my arm.
"Nia."
I wiped my face.
"I'm okay."
She waited.
I took a breath.
"No. I'm not okay."
She nodded gently.
"But I'm going to be."
We spent the next several hours organizing the records.
Patricia arranged for an independent forensic accountant.
His name was Daniel Foster.
He'd worked on complex business disputes for more than twenty years.
When he reviewed the initial files, his expression became serious.
"Mrs. Bennett, these transactions need closer examination."
I nodded.
"That's what I thought."
He pointed toward the invoices.
"Some of the approval patterns are unusual."
My stomach tightened.
"Unusual how?"
"Several payments were divided into smaller amounts."
I leaned forward.
He continued.
"Each falls just below the company's threshold for requiring a second executive approval."
I stared at the screen.
Marcus had helped establish that policy.
He knew exactly how it worked.
I felt cold.
"Could that be deliberate?"
Daniel nodded cautiously.
"It's possible. We need more information before drawing conclusions."
I appreciated his honesty.
I didn't want assumptions.
I wanted proof.
That evening, I went upstairs to check on the children.
Noah was sitting on his bed holding a photograph.
It showed the four of us at the beach.
Marcus had his arm around me.
Lily was laughing.
Noah was sitting on his father's shoulders.
I sat beside him.
"Hey, sweetheart."
He looked up.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"Is Daddy coming home?"
My heart broke.
I took a slow breath.
"Not tonight."
He looked down.
"Because of the lady with the baby?"
I closed my eyes.
Children understand more than adults want to believe.
I gently touched his shoulder.
"Your father and I are having some serious problems."
He stared at the photograph.
"Did we do something wrong?"
I pulled him into my arms.
"No, baby. Never."
His voice cracked.
"Then why doesn't he want us?"
Tears filled my eyes.
I held him tighter.
"Your father's choices have nothing to do with your worth."
He began crying.
I kissed his hair.
"You and Lily are the best things that ever happened to me."
He clung to me.
"Promise?"
"I promise."
A small voice came from the doorway.
"Mommy?"
I turned.
Lily stood there holding her stuffed rabbit.
Her eyes were red.
"Can I sleep with you?"
I opened my arms.
"Of course."
She ran toward me.
I held both children.
And for a long time, we simply stayed together.
That night, after they fell asleep, I received a message from Marcus.
"We need to talk about the business."
I stared at it.
Then another message appeared.
"You're going to destroy everything I've built."
I almost responded.
Everything he'd built?
He seemed to have forgotten the money I'd invested.
The years I'd supported him.
The sacrifices we'd made together.
Instead, I forwarded the messages to Patricia.
Then I turned off my phone.
The next morning, Daniel Foster called.
His voice was serious.
"Nia, I found something you need to see."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"A payment from V Holdings to another company."
I sat straighter.
"Which company?"
"Golden Horizon Properties."
I frowned.
"I've never heard of it."
Daniel continued.
"The payment was substantial."
"How much?"
"Two hundred and twenty thousand dollars."
My heart pounded.
"What was it for?"
He hesitated.
"According to the description, a real estate deposit."
I stared at the wall.
A deposit?
For what?
Daniel continued.
"I checked the property records."
My stomach tightened.
"And?"
"The company recently entered into a purchase agreement involving a luxury home."
I couldn't breathe.
"Where?"
He gave me an address.
I opened the map.
The property was in an exclusive neighborhood outside Atlanta.
Six bedrooms.
A swimming pool.
A gated driveway.
A beautiful modern mansion.
Then Daniel said something that made my blood turn cold.
"The proposed purchasers are Marcus Bennett and Vanessa Reynolds."
I stared at the screen.
My husband had been telling me we couldn't afford our children's summer activities.
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Meanwhile, he was preparing to buy another mansion with his mistress.
And he'd apparently planned to begin his new family in a home funded partly by money taken from ours.
