Chapter 5
I didn't call Marcus immediately.
I wanted to.
I wanted to scream.
Demand answers.
Ask whether our marriage had ever been real.
But Olivia advised me to let the investigators review the documents first.
I listened.
For once, I wasn't going to let fear or anger make my decisions.
I spent the morning with Grace.
She was beginning to stay awake longer between feedings.
Sometimes she stared at my face as though she was studying every detail.
I smiled at her.
"Hi, baby girl."
Her tiny mouth moved.
I laughed softly.
"You have no idea how much I love you."
Then tears filled my eyes.
Because I realized something.
Whatever Marcus had done, Grace deserved parents who acted responsibly.
She deserved honesty.
Stability.
And protection.
I couldn't control Marcus.
But I could control my own choices.
That afternoon, Dad found me sitting in the nursery.
He knocked gently.
"Sweetheart?"
I looked up.
"Hi."
He entered with a cup of tea.
"How are you feeling?"
I shrugged.
"Tired."
He sat beside me.
"That's understandable."
I stared at Grace.
Then whispered,
"Daddy, what if Marcus never loved me?"
Dad's expression softened.
He took my hand.
"Nia, I can't tell you what Marcus feels."
I nodded.
He continued.
"But I can tell you that love without respect isn't enough."
Tears rolled down my cheeks.
I looked at him.
"Do you think I should divorce him?"
Dad took a slow breath.
"That's your decision."
I swallowed.
He continued.
"My job is to make sure you have the support to choose freely."
I began crying.
For months, Evelyn had tried to control every decision.
Marcus had demanded obedience.
But my father was giving me something different.
Choice.
I leaned against him.
"Thank you."
He kissed my forehead.
"Always."
Later that evening, Olivia arrived with a forensic accountant named Benjamin Price.
He explained that the suspected fraud involved several companies.
Whitmore Residential Holdings.
Evelyn's consulting business.
And an account opened using Vanessa's identification.
The records showed attempted transfers and applications involving substantial sums.
Some had been stopped.
Others required further review.
Benjamin pointed toward a series of payments.
"These transactions are unusual."
I frowned.
"Why?"
"They appear to move money between related companies without clear business purposes."
My stomach tightened.
"Does that mean Evelyn was stealing?"
He answered carefully.
"It raises concerns. We need to establish who authorized them and where the money went."
I nodded.
Then he turned another page.
My heart stopped.
There was a payment from Marcus's personal account.
Seventy-five thousand dollars.
Transferred to Whitmore Residential Holdings.
I stared.
"Marcus sent that?"
Benjamin nodded.
"According to the bank record."
My hands began trembling.
"Why?"
He looked at Olivia.
She leaned forward.
"That's one of the questions we need answered."
I swallowed.
Marcus had told me he was struggling financially.
He said his business was facing unexpected expenses.
He asked me to delay buying nursery furniture.
He complained about the cost of diapers.
Yet he had transferred seventy-five thousand dollars into a company connected to his mother.
I felt sick.
Then I remembered something.
Three months earlier, Marcus asked whether Dad would be willing to lend us money.
I refused to ask.
I told him we were financially stable enough to manage.
He became angry.
He said I was too proud.
Evelyn agreed.
Now I wondered whether they had been trying to access Dad's money all along.
My voice trembled.
"Was the payment before or after we got married?"
Benjamin checked the date.
"Two months after."
I closed my eyes.
That was when Evelyn began spending more time at our house.
She offered to help organize bills.
She asked for copies of financial documents.
She started calling herself the family's financial adviser.
I had laughed at the title.
Now it frightened me.
Olivia looked at me.
"Nia, we need to review how Marcus's role was represented."
I nodded.
"Okay."
The next morning, Marcus called again.
This time, I answered.
"Nia?"
His voice sounded strained.
"Yes."
He swallowed.
"I know you're upset."
I almost laughed.
"Upset?"
He went silent.
I continued.
"Marcus, I found out you transferred seventy-five thousand dollars to your mother's company."
He exhaled sharply.
"Who told you that?"
My heart sank.
Not a denial.
Not surprise.
A question about who exposed him.
I took a breath.
"Why did you do it?"
He hesitated.
"Mom needed help."
I stared.
"Help with what?"
"Business expenses."
I closed my eyes.
"And why didn't you tell me?"
He sounded frustrated.
"Because you'd judge her."
I felt something inside me turn cold.
"Marcus, you told me we couldn't afford a proper crib."
He said nothing.
I continued.
"You complained when I bought a breast pump."
His breathing changed.
"You said we needed to save."
I swallowed.
"Yet you gave your mother seventy-five thousand dollars."
He whispered,
"It was a loan."
I shook my head.
"Do you have an agreement?"
Silence.
"Marcus?"
"No."
I closed my eyes.
"Then how were you planning to get it back?"
He didn't answer.
For a long moment, I listened to him breathe.
Then he whispered,
"Nia, Mom promised the house would eventually be ours."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
He swallowed.
"She said your father wanted to give it to us."
I stared at the wall.
Dad had never said anything like that.
Marcus continued.
"She said if I helped with the business, we'd have security."
I felt sick.
"Marcus, did you know she was trying to transfer the house?"
He hesitated.
My hands began shaking.
"Answer me."
Finally, he whispered,
"I knew there was paperwork."
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The truth.
Maybe not all of it.
But enough.
I took a breath.
"Did you know she used my signature?"
He answered quickly.
"No."
I wanted to believe him.
But trust had become something I couldn't give automatically.
I looked toward Grace.
Then said,
"Marcus, we're going to communicate through our attorneys for now."
His voice broke.
"Nia, please."
I swallowed.
"I need space."
He began crying.
"I love you."
Tears filled my eyes.
I took a breath.
"Then start acting like someone who understands what love requires."
I ended the call.
That evening, I received a message from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph.
Evelyn and Vanessa stood outside a bank.
Between them was Marcus.
My husband.
Smiling.
The photograph was dated four months earlier.
Before Grace was born.
Before the attempted property transfer.
Before I signed any hospital paperwork.
I stared at it.
Then another message arrived.
HE WAS THERE WHEN THEY PLANNED IT.
My hands began trembling.
A third message followed.
ASK HIM ABOUT THE MEETING AT THE BANK.
I felt my heart stop.
Because suddenly, the question wasn't whether Marcus had helped Evelyn.
May you like
It was how much he had helped.
And whether he would ever tell me the truth without being caught first.
