Chapter 5 - The Papers He Never Expected Me to Find
I didn't sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the partnership agreement.
My signature.
Marcus's signature.
The date.
I remembered exactly where we had been when we signed it.
A tiny apartment in Atlanta.
A secondhand kitchen table.
Two cups of instant coffee.
Marcus had been so excited that his hands shook.
"We're going to make it, Nia," he told me.
I smiled through tears.
"Together."
Together.
That word had meant everything to me.
Apparently, it had meant nothing to him.
The next morning, our attorney, Patricia Coleman, arrived at the house.
She was a respected corporate litigator with a calm voice and an extraordinary memory.
She examined the agreement carefully.
Then she looked up.
"This is important."
I leaned forward.
"Does it prove I own part of Carter Development?"
"Potentially. We need to trace what happened when the partnership was incorporated."
Isaiah sat beside me.
"Can we obtain those records?"
Patricia nodded.
"Yes. We already have access to significant corporate records through the acquisition."
She turned another page.
"But there is something troubling."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"The agreement provides for equal founding ownership unless both partners sign a later amendment."
I frowned.
"Marcus said the agreement was replaced."
"Did you sign anything transferring your interest?"
"No."
"Are you certain?"
I thought carefully.
During our divorce, Richard Sloan had presented several documents.
I remembered signing property settlements.
Bank forms.
Insurance paperwork.
But I did not remember signing away a company I had helped create.
"I don't think so."
Patricia nodded.
"Then we'll verify every relevant signature."
I looked at Isaiah.
His jaw was tight.
He had been calm throughout the scandal.
But now I could see anger beneath his expression.
"Someone knew this agreement existed," he said.
Patricia nodded.
"And someone may have taken steps to conceal it."
My mind immediately went to Richard Sloan.
The attorney who had handled our divorce.
The attorney who disappeared the night of the gala.
The same man who had helped Marcus move money through a company registered under my maiden name.
I felt cold.
"Richard."
Patricia looked at me.
"What about him?"
"He represented Marcus during our divorce. He told me I had no ownership interest."
She wrote something down.
"Did he represent you too?"
"No. I had a separate attorney for the final settlement, but Richard handled most of the business-related explanations."
Patricia nodded.
"We'll examine the records carefully."
That afternoon, I received a message from Vanessa.
It contained a single sentence.
You don't know what Marcus did to you.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
Meet me alone, and I'll tell you everything.
I immediately showed Isaiah.
He frowned.
"Don't go alone."
"I wasn't planning to."
We contacted Patricia.
She advised me not to engage in an undocumented private meeting.
Instead, she offered to arrange a conversation with Vanessa and her attorney.
Vanessa refused.
Then she sent another message.
If Marcus finds out I contacted you, I'm finished.
For the first time, I wondered whether Vanessa was as confident as she appeared.
Maybe she wasn't simply Marcus's glamorous girlfriend.
Maybe she was another woman trapped in his lies.
I remembered how easily Marcus had manipulated me.
The compliments.
The promises.
The way he made me feel special before slowly convincing me I couldn't survive without him.
I had mistaken control for love.
Perhaps Vanessa had too.
But sympathy didn't erase what she had done.
She had publicly accused me of stealing money.
She had helped humiliate me.
And she had shown no concern for the damage her lies might cause Lily.
I would listen to the truth.
But I wouldn't trust her without evidence.
Two days later, investigators located Richard Sloan.
He hadn't been kidnapped.
He had flown to the Cayman Islands using a different travel itinerary from the one his office had recorded.
Authorities were examining whether he had attempted to move assets beyond their reach.
His disappearance had not been random.
And when he returned to the United States, he was met by investigators.
The news spread quickly.
So did another development.
An independent forensic accountant working with Patricia discovered that several documents used during my divorce contained signatures that didn't match mine.
One was an alleged transfer of ownership.
Another authorized a payment account associated with the consulting company registered under my name.
I felt physically ill when Patricia showed me the comparisons.
"They forged my signature."
She nodded carefully.
"That's what the preliminary analysis suggests. We'll need formal examination."
I stared at the page.
Marcus had stolen my work.
My money.
My trust.
And apparently, he had continued using my identity long after our marriage ended.
I covered my face.
Isaiah moved closer.
"Sweetheart."
I shook my head.
"I feel so stupid."
His voice became firm.
"No."
I looked at him.
"He lied to me for years. How did I not see it?"
"Because you trusted your husband."
I wiped my cheeks.
"That doesn't make me feel better."
He took my hand.
"Then hear this. You weren't foolish for believing in someone you loved. He was wrong for betraying that trust."
I wanted to believe him.
But the shame was still there.
I had spent years telling myself I should have known better.
Now I was confronting evidence that the betrayal had been worse than I imagined.
That evening, Marcus appeared outside our front gate.
Security called Isaiah immediately.
I watched through the study window as Marcus stood beside his car.
His expensive suit was wrinkled.
His face looked exhausted.
He kept checking his phone.
Isaiah turned toward me.
"You don't have to see him."
I considered that.
Then I shook my head.
"I want to hear what he has to say."
We met him in the security office near the property entrance.
Daniel remained nearby.
Marcus looked at Isaiah first.
Then at me.
"Nia."
I stood silently.
He swallowed.
"I know you're angry."
I almost laughed.
"Angry?"
He looked down.
"I made mistakes."
I stared at him.
"Did you forge my signature?"
His eyes shifted.
That was enough.
"Marcus."
He rubbed his forehead.
"Richard handled the paperwork."
"Did you know?"
He said nothing.
"Did you know?"
His voice cracked.
"Yes."
I felt something inside me go very still.
For years, I had wondered whether Marcus understood how badly he hurt me.
Now I had my answer.
He knew.
He had always known.
"Why?"
He looked at the floor.
"Because if you kept your ownership, I couldn't control the company."
I stared at him.
He continued quickly.
"I thought I could make it up to you later."
I laughed bitterly.
"By divorcing me?"
He flinched.
"Nia—"
"By telling people I contributed nothing?"
"I was angry."
"By using my name to hide stolen money?"
He looked away.
I felt tears rise.
But I refused to let them fall.
"You didn't just stop loving me, Marcus."
My voice trembled.
"You decided I wasn't entitled to anything we'd built."
He whispered, "I'm sorry."
I shook my head.
"You're sorry because you got caught."
He looked at Isaiah.
"Please. You can stop this."
Isaiah's expression was cold.
"The investigations aren't mine to stop."
Marcus turned back to me.
"Nia, I'm begging you."
For one brief moment, I saw the frightened young man I once loved.
But then I remembered the years of lies.
The forged documents.
The scandal.
And the family waiting for me inside the house.
I took a slow breath.
"No, Marcus."
He stared at me.
"I'm not saving you from the consequences of what you did."
I turned to leave.
Then Marcus said something that stopped me.
"Vanessa knows where the rest of the money went."
I turned back.
"What?"
His face changed.
"She's not who you think she is."
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Marcus swallowed.
"She didn't meet me by accident."
I felt a chill.
"Then who sent her?"
He looked at Isaiah.
Then at me.
May you like
And whispered a name I hadn't heard in seven years.
"Your former attorney, Deborah Lane."
