Chapter 2
I stopped walking.
Behind me, I could still hear Marcus calling my name.
But Jasmine's words had cut through every other sound.
“What money?”
She looked toward the restaurant doors.
“Not here.”
I stared at her.
“Jasmine.”
She swallowed.
“Your inheritance.”
For a moment, I thought I had misunderstood.
“My inheritance?”
She nodded.
I felt my stomach tighten.
Three months earlier, my grandmother had passed away.
Grandma Evelyn was the woman who raised me whenever my mother worked overnight shifts.
She taught me how to cook.
How to save money.
How to recognize when someone was pretending to love me.
When she died, she left me a house, several investment accounts, and a small commercial property in downtown Atlanta.
The inheritance was substantial.
But the money mattered less than the woman behind it.
Grandma had worked for forty years as a nurse.
She bought her first house after being denied a mortgage twice.
She invested carefully.
And she never spent money trying to impress anyone.
“Whatever you earn,” she used to tell me, “make sure nobody can take away your independence.”
I had told Marcus about the inheritance.
Of course I had.
We were engaged.
I trusted him.
But I had never given Diane access to any of those accounts.
“What does his mother have to do with Grandma's money?”
Jasmine looked miserable.
“Yesterday, I overheard her talking to Marcus's cousin.”
I felt my heart pounding.
“What did she say?”
“She said everything would change once you signed the marriage paperwork.”
I stared at her.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“I know.”
“She doesn't control my inheritance.”
Jasmine nodded quickly.
“That's what I thought.”
I leaned against the wall.
The restaurant corridor suddenly felt too narrow.
Jasmine took my hand.
“Nia, she also mentioned a property transfer.”
I looked up.
“What property transfer?”
“The downtown building.”
My stomach dropped.
That building had been Grandma's proudest accomplishment.
A three-story commercial property she purchased when I was twelve.
It housed a beauty salon, a small bookstore, and a family-owned bakery.
Grandma always said the building represented everything people told her she could never achieve.
I had promised myself I would preserve it.
“Why would Diane want that building?”
Jasmine shook her head.
“I don't know.”
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
Then the restaurant doors opened.
Marcus hurried into the hallway.
His tuxedo was stained.
His hair was damp.
He looked furious.
“Nia!”
I stepped backward.
“Don't come closer.”
He stopped.
“Are you seriously leaving our wedding over one argument?”
I stared at him.
“One argument?”
He threw up his hands.
“You poured wine on me!”
“After your mother threw it in my face.”
He looked away.
“She shouldn't have done that.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Now you can say it?”
Marcus sighed.
“Can we stop embarrassing each other?”
I felt my chest tighten.
He was still worried about appearances.
Not about what his mother had done.
Not about how I felt.
Just appearances.
I looked directly at him.
“Marcus, did your mother ask you about my grandmother's building?”
His face changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
“What?”
“The downtown property.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Nia, why are we talking about that?”
My stomach turned.
“Answer me.”
He looked toward Jasmine.
She folded her arms.
“Don't look at me.”
Marcus exhaled.
“Mom mentioned some investment possibilities.”
I stared at him.
“What investment possibilities?”
“Nothing serious.”
“Then explain.”
He looked annoyed.
“We're supposed to be married. We should be able to make financial decisions together.”
I felt cold.
“Together?”
“Yes.”
“Or with your mother?”
His jaw tightened.
“You're twisting everything.”
I took a slow breath.
“Did you tell Diane she could have any interest in Grandma's building?”
Marcus went silent.
I knew that silence.
I had heard it whenever I asked whether his mother had been criticizing me.
Whenever I asked why he gave her money without discussing it.
Whenever I asked why she seemed to know things about our finances that I had never told her.
He always avoided answering.
I stepped closer.
“Marcus.”
He looked at me.
“Did you?”
He swallowed.
“I told her we'd talk about it after the wedding.”
My heart dropped.
I stared at him.
“You made plans involving my inheritance without asking me?”
He raised his voice.
“I didn't make plans!”
“Then why did you tell her we'd discuss it?”
“Because she's my mother!”
The words echoed through the corridor.
I looked at Jasmine.
She looked furious.
Then Marcus reached for my hand.
“Nia, please. Let's go back inside.”
I pulled away.
“No.”
His face hardened.
“Don't do this.”
I stared at him.
“I already did.”
He looked toward the ring in his hand.
I hadn't noticed him carrying it.
He must have taken it from the table.
He held it out.
“Put this back on.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Nia.”
“I said no.”
He stared at me.
Then his expression changed.
“You're going to regret humiliating me.”
The words were quiet.
But they frightened me.
Not because I believed he would hurt me physically.
Because I realized he might be willing to punish me financially.
I stepped backward.
“Jasmine, let's go.”
She nodded.
We walked toward the exit.
Marcus followed us to the parking lot.
“Nia, come back!”
I didn't stop.
My brother Caleb was waiting beside Jasmine's car.
He looked at my stained dress.
His face hardened.
“What happened?”
I shook my head.
“Not now.”
Caleb opened the car door.
“Get in.”
I climbed inside.
As Jasmine started the engine, I looked through the window.
Marcus stood beneath the restaurant lights.
His mother appeared behind him.
She was no longer crying.
No longer pretending to be shocked.
She was speaking rapidly into her phone.
Then she looked toward our car.
And smiled.
My stomach tightened.
I had seen that smile before.
At the rehearsal dinner.
When she told me some women weren't meant to marry into families like hers.
I turned toward Jasmine.
“Call my attorney.”
She looked surprised.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
I stared at the disappearing restaurant.
“Tonight.”
Because if Diane believed my wedding ring gave her access to Grandma's legacy, she was about to discover something.
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I had been raised by a woman who knew exactly how to protect what she earned.
And I wasn't going to let anyone steal it.
