Chapter 5
I didn't open the door.
Not immediately.
Celeste Morgan stood on my porch, glancing nervously toward the street.
She looked nothing like the confident woman in the photograph.
Her makeup was smudged.
Her hands were shaking.
And her voice carried something I hadn't expected.
Fear.
"Why should I trust you?" I asked through the speaker.
She swallowed.
"You shouldn't."
The answer surprised me.
"But I have information your attorney needs."
I looked toward Jordan.
He stood beside the kitchen entrance.
"Mom, don't let her inside."
I nodded.
Then I turned back to the screen.
"Send everything to Angela Brooks."
Celeste hesitated.
"Marcus checks my business email."
"Then use another account."
She looked over her shoulder again.
"He's moving money tonight."
My pulse quickened.
"Where?"
"Out of accounts connected to Hawthorne Strategic Partners."
I pressed a hand against my chest.
"That's where Jordan's college money went."
Celeste looked down.
"I know."
Anger surged through me.
"You knew?"
She started crying.
"Nia, I didn't understand everything at first."
I almost laughed.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"No. I expect you to protect yourself."
She held up a flash drive.
"This contains the transfers, the loan application, and messages from Marcus."
I stared at it.
"Then give it to the police."
Celeste nodded.
"I will."
"Tonight."
She looked directly at the camera.
"Okay."
Before leaving, she whispered:
"There's something else."
I waited.
"Marcus doesn't just want your house."
My stomach twisted.
"What does he want?"
"Your insurance money."
I froze.
"What insurance money?"
Celeste looked frightened.
"The policy you took out after your first husband died."
My entire body went cold.
My first husband, David, had died in a car accident when Jordan was fourteen.
I'd received a life insurance payout.
Most of it had helped me purchase our home and secure Jordan's future.
Marcus knew that.
I'd told him shortly after we became engaged.
"Celeste," I said slowly, "what are you talking about?"
She swallowed.
"Marcus believes there's another account."
I frowned.
"There isn't."
"He's convinced you're hiding it."
I closed my eyes.
So that was it.
Marcus had spent years believing I was sitting on a secret fortune.
And when he couldn't find one, he'd begun taking what he could.
Celeste stepped backward.
"Please tell your attorney everything."
Then she walked away.
I called Angela immediately.
She listened carefully.
Then instructed me not to meet Celeste alone or accept unknown digital files without proper handling.
She contacted the investigator assigned to the financial complaint.
By midnight, Celeste had agreed to meet with authorities.
I sat in the kitchen with Jordan and Tasha.
Nobody spoke for several minutes.
Then Jordan looked at me.
"Mom, did Marcus marry you for money?"
The question broke my heart.
I stared at the wedding photograph hanging beside the staircase.
Marcus and I were smiling.
His arm was around my waist.
Jordan stood beside us wearing a navy suit.
He'd looked happy that day.
So had I.
"I don't know what Marcus felt when he married me," I whispered.
Jordan looked down.
"But I know what he's doing now."
Tasha reached for my hand.
"And that's what matters."
The next morning, Angela called.
Celeste had provided financial records and communications to investigators.
Several appeared to show Marcus directing transfers from accounts he'd accessed while handling household finances.
Other messages referred to the proposed home-equity loan.
And one email contained something even more disturbing.
A plan.
Not a formal business proposal.
A series of instructions.
Move Jordan out.
Increase pressure on Nia.
Complete financing.
Transfer proceeds.
I stared at the summary Angela sent me.
Every step matched something Marcus had done.
The arguments.
The accusations.
The black duffel bag.
The ultimatum.
It hadn't been a spontaneous fight.
It had been a strategy.
Marcus had wanted me isolated.
Without my son.
Without the person most likely to notice something was wrong.
I covered my mouth.
"Oh, my God."
Angela's voice softened.
"Nia?"
"He planned that argument."
"We have reason to believe he planned to force a separation between you and Jordan."
I began crying.
Marcus hadn't simply disliked my son.
He'd seen him as an obstacle.
An obstacle to my money.
An obstacle to my home.
An obstacle to controlling me.
I felt sick.
"What happens now?"
"The lender has suspended the transaction. Investigators are reviewing the financial records."
"And Marcus?"
"Authorities are attempting to contact him."
I took a breath.
"Is he gone?"
"We don't know yet."
That afternoon, Jordan and I drove to David's grave.
We hadn't visited together in months.
My first husband had been a good man.
Not perfect.
But kind.
Patient.
And devoted to Jordan.
When David died, I thought I'd never survive the grief.
But Jordan had given me a reason to keep going.
Now I stood beside his headstone with tears running down my cheeks.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
Jordan looked at me.
"Mom?"
I touched the stone.
"I promised your father I'd protect you."
Jordan took my hand.
"You did."
I shook my head.
"I brought Marcus into our lives."
"Mom."
"He hurt you."
Jordan turned toward me.
"Listen to me."
I looked up.
"You didn't know what he was going to do."
Tears filled his eyes.
"But when you found out, you stood between us."
I covered my mouth.
He continued.
"You chose me."
I pulled him into my arms.
"Always."
We stood there for a long time.
Then Jordan whispered:
"Dad would be proud of you."
I cried harder.
That evening, a detective called.
His name was Anthony Reed.
He told me investigators had identified several accounts connected to Marcus's consulting business.
Some funds had been frozen.
Others were being traced.
Then his voice became serious.
"Mrs. Holloway, we also need to discuss a document submitted with the home-equity application."
I gripped the phone.
"What document?"
"A statement that appears to authorize Marcus to act on your behalf."
My stomach dropped.
"I never signed that."
"We're aware you dispute it."
He paused.
"But there's another signature."
I stared at the wall.
"Whose?"
"Jordan's."
My heart stopped.
May you like
Then Detective Reed said:
"We need to determine whether your son was misled into signing a document that Marcus later used to support the transaction."
