Chapter 2
Marcus grabbed for the envelope.
I stepped into the hallway before his fingers reached it.
“Nia, give me that.”
“No.”
“You don't understand what you're holding.”
I stared at him.
“Then explain it.”
His chest rose and fell.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
I tightened my grip on the envelope.
“Why are you so afraid of your brother's name?”
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
“Because Daniel has always been trouble.”
I almost laughed.
“That's not an answer.”
“It's the truth.”
“Then why haven't you spoken to him in four years?”
Marcus turned away.
“Because he betrayed me.”
I followed him toward the bedroom.
“How?”
“He stole money from the business.”
The accusation came so quickly that I almost believed it.
Almost.
Four years earlier, Marcus had told me that his construction company collapsed because of an unreliable investor and several canceled contracts.
He said Daniel had abandoned him when things became difficult.
But he had never accused his younger brother of stealing.
Not once.
“Why didn't you tell me that before?”
Marcus looked irritated.
“Because I was embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed that your brother stole from you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you report him?”
His mouth tightened.
“Family doesn't do that to family.”
I stared at him.
“Funny. You didn't seem concerned about family when you threatened to end our marriage.”
He looked wounded.
“Nia, please.”
I stepped back.
“No. You don't get to change the subject.”
My phone vibrated.
A message appeared from my executive assistant, Olivia Grant.
Your driver is arriving in twenty minutes. Mr. Whitmore confirmed the meeting. Please bring the original agreement.
Marcus glanced at the screen.
“Who's Whitmore?”
“Chairman of the investment group.”
He shook his head.
“You're really going?”
“Yes.”
He followed me downstairs.
Our house was beautiful.
Large windows.
Cream-colored walls.
A curved staircase Marcus had insisted on installing during our renovation.
Anyone looking from the outside would have thought we had a perfect life.
They wouldn't have known how many nights I cried alone in the guest room.
Or how often Marcus reminded me that I earned more than he did.
Or how every achievement of mine somehow became an insult to him.
I stopped beside the front door.
“Marcus, I loved you when we had nothing.”
He looked away.
“I know.”
“I loved you when your business failed.”
“Nia—”
“I loved you when we had to sell my car to pay your debts.”
His eyes filled.
“I know.”
“Then why is loving me while I'm successful so difficult?”
He didn't answer.
The silence broke something inside me.
I picked up my keys.
Marcus stepped closer.
“Please don't go.”
For the first time that morning, he sounded like the man I married.
I wanted to believe him.
I wanted to put down the bag and hold him.
But I remembered the ultimatum.
And the fear in his eyes when he saw the envelope.
“Are you asking because you love me?” I whispered.
“Of course.”
“Or because you don't want me to find out what's inside?”
His expression hardened.
“You're making a mistake.”
I opened the door.
“Then it's mine to make.”
He didn't stop me again.
As I walked toward the waiting car, I heard him call my name.
“Nia!”
I turned.
He stood in the doorway holding my wedding ring.
His face looked pale.
“If you meet Daniel, don't believe everything he tells you.”
My heart began pounding.
“I never said I was meeting Daniel.”
Marcus froze.
I stared at him.
“How did you know?”
His mouth opened.
Then closed.
The driver stepped forward to take my bag.
I turned away before Marcus could invent another answer.
Inside the car, I pressed my forehead against the cool window.
I wanted to cry.
Instead, I opened the envelope.
There it was.
Page seventeen.
A list of minority investors and strategic partners.
Daniel Carter.
My husband's younger brother.
He owned a significant interest in the firm I was about to join.
But that wasn't the only surprise.
Attached to the agreement was a confidential disclosure concerning an old construction investment.
Carter Development Group.
The company Marcus claimed had collapsed because of Daniel's betrayal.
According to the documents, a substantial amount of company money had been transferred into an account controlled by Marcus shortly before the bankruptcy.
I stared at the figures.
Two hundred and eighty thousand dollars.
My stomach twisted.
That amount matched the money I had borrowed against my retirement account to save Marcus's business.
The money he swore had disappeared into unpaid invoices.
The money that had taken me years to recover.
I read the disclosure again.
Then again.
The dates matched.
The account number was partially hidden.
But the initials beside it were unmistakable.
M.C.
Marcus Carter.
I closed my eyes.
Had my husband lied to me for four years?
Had he watched me work nights and weekends while knowing where the money went?
My phone rang.
Daniel.
I had not heard his voice in years.
I answered carefully.
“Hello?”
“Nia.”
His voice sounded older.
Tired.
“Daniel.”
“I'm glad you answered.”
I looked out the window.
“Why is your name in my partnership agreement?”
He sighed.
“Because I asked the board to consider you.”
I sat upright.
“What?”
“Your work speaks for itself. I recommended your division last year.”
I felt anger rise.
“You should have told me.”
“I couldn't interfere with the selection process.”
“Then why are you calling now?”
His voice became serious.
“Because I heard Marcus found out.”
I closed my eyes.
“Daniel, what happened to the money?”
There was a long silence.
Then he whispered, “He still hasn't told you?”
“Told me what?”
I heard him take a shaky breath.
“Nia, I didn't steal from the company.”
My heart pounded.
“I know that's what he says.”
“Marcus transferred the money.”
“Why?”
“Because he was trying to hide something from you.”
I gripped the phone.
“What was he hiding?”
Daniel hesitated.
“I didn't want you to learn this from me.”
“Daniel.”
His next words almost stopped my breathing.
“He used your retirement money to buy a house.”
I stared at the seat in front of me.
“A house?”
“Yes.”
I could barely speak.
“For whom?”
Daniel's voice cracked.
“Nia, that house wasn't for you.”
My fingers went numb.
May you like
The car continued toward the airport.
And somewhere behind me, in the home I had spent ten years building, my husband was holding the wedding ring I no longer knew whether I wanted back.
