Chapter 2
I stared at the photograph until my vision blurred.
Marcus had one hand around Vanessa's waist.
Her arms were wrapped around his neck.
They weren't standing close by accident.
They weren't laughing at a private joke.
They were kissing.
And behind them, clearly visible, was the antique grandfather clock in my mother's living room.
The same clock my father had bought her for their twentieth anniversary.
My wedding day had just become something much worse than a ruined ceremony.
My fiancé had been inside my mother's house with another woman.
The night before our wedding.
My mother noticed my expression.
"Nia? What's wrong?"
I locked my phone.
"Nothing you need to worry about right now."
She studied my face.
"Baby, I know that look."
I swallowed.
"Please. Let's get somewhere quiet first."
We walked into a small private lounge across the hallway.
My bridesmaid and oldest friend, Tasha, found us there.
She had been searching for me after guests began asking why the ceremony was delayed.
The moment she saw my mother's hair, her expression changed.
"Oh my God."
Mom looked away.
Tasha immediately hugged her.
"Who did this?"
"Vanessa," I answered.
Tasha's face hardened.
"That woman has been trouble since the day Marcus introduced her."
I showed her the photograph.
She covered her mouth.
"Are you serious?"
I nodded.
"Someone just sent it."
Tasha enlarged the image.
"That's your mother's house."
"I know."
"Wasn't Marcus supposed to be staying at his brother's place last night?"
"That's what he told me."
Tasha looked at me.
"Nia, there's something else."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"Yesterday, I went looking for Marcus because the wedding coordinator needed his signature."
She hesitated.
"I found him arguing with Vanessa near the service elevators."
"About what?"
"I couldn't hear everything. But Vanessa said she was tired of being hidden."
My hands turned cold.
"What did Marcus say?"
"He told her to behave until after the wedding."
The room seemed to tilt.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Tasha's eyes filled with tears.
"Because when they saw me, Marcus said they were arguing about the wedding schedule. I wanted to believe him."
I sat down.
Four years.
Four years of loving Marcus.
Four years of defending him when my mother said he moved too quickly.
Four years of ignoring the small lies because I thought trusting someone meant never questioning them.
My phone vibrated again.
Another message.
"Check the documents Marcus asked Evelyn to sign."
I frowned.
"Documents?"
My mother looked up.
"What documents?"
I turned toward her.
"Mom, has Marcus asked you to sign anything recently?"
She hesitated.
"He brought some papers over last Tuesday."
My chest tightened.
"What kind of papers?"
"He said they were insurance documents for the wedding venue."
"What wedding venue?"
"The family property."
My father had left us a beautiful twelve-acre estate outside Atlanta.
We called it Willow Creek.
It had been in our family for three generations.
After Dad died, Mom had refused every offer to sell it.
A few years earlier, we'd converted the old guesthouse into a small event space.
Marcus had encouraged us to host the wedding there before a plumbing emergency forced us to move the ceremony to the luxury hotel.
He had handled most of the business arrangements.
At the time, I thought he was being helpful.
Now I wasn't so sure.
"Did you sign them?" I asked.
Mom shook her head.
"I told him I wanted our lawyer to look first."
I breathed out.
"Thank God."
"But he seemed upset."
"How upset?"
"He said delaying the paperwork could ruin the wedding."
Tasha and I exchanged a look.
Before I could ask another question, someone knocked.
Marcus.
"Nia, open the door."
His voice was softer now.
Almost pleading.
"We need to talk."
I stood.
"Go away."
"Please. You're making a terrible mistake."
I opened the door just enough to face him.
"Did you go to my mother's house last night?"
His expression flickered.
"What?"
"Answer me."
He glanced behind me.
"I went there to check on some wedding arrangements."
"With Vanessa?"
His face drained.
"Why would you ask that?"
I held up my phone.
The photograph filled the screen.
Marcus went completely still.
For a moment, I watched him search for a lie.
Then he lowered his voice.
"Nia, it's not what it looks like."
I laughed.
It sounded strange coming from my mouth.
"You're kissing her."
"She kissed me."
"And your arms accidentally wrapped around her?"
He stepped closer.
"I made a mistake."
"How many times?"
He said nothing.
"How many times, Marcus?"
His silence was my answer.
Behind him, Vanessa appeared.
Her ruined ponytail had been hastily pinned into a short, uneven style.
She looked furious.
"Are you seriously going to destroy a four-year relationship over one photograph?"
I stared at her.
"You cut my mother's hair."
"That was an accident."
"You slept with my fiancé."
Vanessa smiled bitterly.
"Maybe if you'd paid attention to him, he wouldn't have needed someone else."
Marcus turned sharply.
"Vanessa, shut up."
She looked stunned.
I suddenly understood something.
They weren't worried about losing me.
They were worried about losing control of the situation.
I stepped backward and shut the door.
Then I called the wedding coordinator.
"This is Nia Carter. The ceremony is canceled."
The woman gasped.
"Miss Carter, are you certain?"
"Completely."
"We can make an announcement."
"No. I'll do it."
Twenty minutes later, I walked into the ballroom.
Two hundred guests turned toward me.
I was still wearing my wedding dress.
My mother stood beside me, her damaged hair partially covered by a silk scarf Tasha had found.
I took the microphone.
"Thank you all for coming."
The room became silent.
"There will not be a wedding today."
Gasps spread across the tables.
"My fiancé betrayed me. And someone he chose to protect deliberately humiliated my mother."
Marcus appeared at the back of the ballroom.
His eyes widened.
I continued.
"I refuse to begin a marriage by abandoning the woman who taught me what love means."
My mother squeezed my hand.
I gave the microphone back.
Then I walked out.
For the first time all morning, I could breathe.
But outside the ballroom, my phone rang.
The caller identified herself as an attorney named Rebecca Hayes.
"Nia, your father trusted my firm with his estate planning," she said.
"I know who you are."
Her voice turned serious.
"Then you need to come to my office immediately."
"Why?"
There was a pause.
"Someone submitted documents this morning attempting to borrow four million dollars against Willow Creek."
My knees weakened.
"That's impossible."
"I wish it were."
"Who submitted them?"
May you like
Rebecca took a breath.
"Marcus Reed."
