It’s open… #DramaSeries #DramaAlert #datenight

I stared at the transaction until the numbers stopped looking real.

The payment was for $12,000.

It had been recorded two months earlier, shortly after Marcus first asked whether I would ever consider investing in his business.

I had told him I wanted to wait until I understood the company's finances.

He had kissed my forehead and promised he wouldn't pressure me.

Apparently, he had found another way to get what he wanted.

I downloaded the statement and sent it to the attorney I had consulted the previous day.

Then I called Patricia.

“I found a transfer labeled as my capital contribution.”

She went quiet.

“How much?”

“Twelve thousand dollars.”

“That amount appears in our company records as your investment.”

I gripped the phone.

“Why?”

“I don't know. But if Marcus represented that you invested money, there should be documentation showing your authorization.”

“I never signed anything.”

“Then we need to find out what he submitted.”

Patricia promised to preserve the company's records and avoid making accusations until the documents could be reviewed properly.

I appreciated her caution.

My anger wanted immediate answers, but I understood that careless accusations could make everything worse.

That afternoon, I met with my attorney, Ms. Collins.

I brought the bank statements, screenshots, hotel reservation, and every message Marcus had sent me.

She examined the documents carefully.

“First, we need to separate the relationship issues from the financial issues,” she explained. “His infidelity is painful, but the unauthorized transactions may create a different set of questions.”

“Can I get my money back?”

“That depends on the account agreement, the nature of the transfers, and what the investigation establishes. We shouldn't assume the transaction was fraudulent until we know exactly how it was authorized.”

She explained the steps I could take to protect my individual funds, request records, and dispute any transaction I hadn't approved.

I followed her advice.

Before leaving, I asked about the apartment.

Marcus and I were both named on the lease, so I couldn't simply change the locks or throw his belongings outside.

Ms. Collins recommended documenting our communications and discussing any changes with the landlord.

I left the office with a clearer plan.

That evening, Vanessa called me.

I almost ignored the number, but curiosity got the better of me.

“What do you want?” I asked.

She gave a small laugh.

“Marcus told me you two were having problems.”

“I'm sure he did.”

“He says you're making everything difficult because you can't accept that he's moved on.”

I closed my eyes briefly.

“Did you call to explain why you were sleeping with my partner, or did you just want to repeat his excuses?”

Her voice sharpened.

“You don't own him, Nia.”

“No. But I expected him to be honest with me.”

“He told me you were basically finished months ago.”

“That must have been convenient.”

She went silent.

I continued.

“Did Marcus tell you he was using our shared money to buy your gifts?”

“That's none of your business.”

“It became my business when he took money from our account.”

“You're acting like a jealous woman who can't handle rejection.”

I laughed bitterly.

“Is that what he told you? That I'm jealous? Did he also tell you he listed me as an investor in his company without my permission?”

The silence on the other end was immediate.

It lasted long enough to tell me that she knew something.

Finally, Vanessa spoke.

“I don't know anything about his business.”

“Then you won't mind if the records are examined.”

She ended the call.

I sat perfectly still, listening to the silence.

I hadn't won anything. I hadn't recovered a dollar or received an apology.

But I had seen Vanessa lose her confidence for the first time.

That mattered.

Later that night, Danielle arrived with takeout and a bottle of sparkling water.

She found me sitting on the living room floor surrounded by documents.

“You look like you're preparing for a trial.”

“I might be.”

She sat beside me.

“Have you eaten?”

I shook my head.

She opened the food containers and handed me a fork.

For the first time all day, I allowed myself to stop working.

“I keep thinking about the restaurant,” I admitted. “If I had just opened the door and gotten into the car, would any of this have happened?”

Danielle put down her fork.

“Nia, listen to me. The door didn't make him cheat. Your reaction didn't make him steal. You didn't create his choices.”

I looked away.

“I know that logically.”

“Then keep reminding yourself until your heart catches up.”

The following morning, Patricia emailed me a document she had received from the company's accountant.

It was a copy of the investment ledger.

My name appeared beside the $12,000 contribution.

Beneath it was a scanned authorization form bearing a signature that looked like mine.

Except it wasn't mine.

The letters were too neat. The final stroke of the N was wrong.

Someone had copied my signature.

I immediately forwarded the document to Ms. Collins.

Then another email arrived from Patricia.

The accountant had discovered three additional transfers linked to the same investment entry.

Together, they exceeded $40,000.

I felt sick.

The money was not all mine, and I didn't yet know where it had gone. But the records suggested that someone had been using my name to make the company's finances look stronger than they were.

My phone rang.

Marcus.

I answered because I needed to hear what he would say.

“Have you been talking to Patricia?” he demanded.

“Yes.”

“You need to stay out of my business.”

“You used my name.”

His breathing changed.

“It's complicated.”

“No. My signature is on a document I never signed. Explain that.”

He was silent.

Then he said, “Come to my office tomorrow. We'll settle this privately.”