Chapter 6
The next morning, I woke to the sound of my mother talking in the kitchen.
For a moment, I forgot everything.
Then I saw my wedding dress hanging beside the window.
Reality hit me all over again.
I wasn't married.
My fiancé had cheated on me.
My family's property was caught in an attempted financial scheme.
And my mother was trying to hide her ruined hair beneath a scarf.
I found her making pancakes.
"Mom, you don't have to cook."
She smiled.
"I've been making you breakfast since you were little. Why stop now?"
I hugged her from behind.
She reached up and patted my hands.
For a few seconds, I let myself feel safe.
Then Rebecca called.
"The lender has placed the transaction on hold pending its review."
I almost dropped my phone.
"Really?"
"Yes. They have acknowledged our dispute and won't move forward based on the challenged documents while the matter is being investigated."
I covered my mouth.
"Thank God."
"But there's another issue."
My heart sank.
"What now?"
"Marcus's company has several creditors, and one of them claims he promised repayment using proceeds from the Willow Creek project."
"Can they take our property?"
"Not simply because Marcus made a promise. But we need to ensure no valid interest was created and respond to any filings."
I nodded.
"Whatever you need."
She paused.
"Also, Denise is here. She's brought documents."
I told Mom and Tasha.
We drove to Rebecca's office together.
Denise was waiting in the conference room.
She looked younger than I'd imagined.
Maybe thirty.
She wore a simple blue blouse and kept twisting her wedding ring.
When she saw me, she stood.
"I'm so sorry."
I sat across from her.
"Just tell me the truth."
She opened her bag.
Inside were printed emails, bank records, and copies of several salon appointment schedules.
Then she placed her phone on the table.
"I saved the messages because Vanessa kept asking me to do things that didn't feel right."
Rebecca asked her permission to review the material.
Denise nodded.
The first message was from Vanessa.
It read:
"Marcus says Evelyn is getting suspicious. I need her embarrassed enough that Nia stops listening to her."
Another message arrived two weeks later.
"The wedding has to look like it falls apart because Nia can't control herself."
I felt my face burn.
They had planned to use my anger against me.
I looked at Denise.
"Did Marcus know Vanessa was going to cut my mother's hair?"
Denise hesitated.
"I heard him tell her to make Evelyn look ridiculous. I never heard him specifically say to cut her hair."
It wasn't the answer I wanted.
But it was the truth.
Rebecca examined another document.
"What's this?"
Denise took a breath.
"A consulting agreement."
It showed that Vanessa had received several payments from Reed Hospitality Development.
The payments totaled more than $140,000.
"What consulting did she provide?" Rebecca asked.
Denise looked at the table.
"She didn't."
"How do you know?"
"Because Vanessa bragged that Marcus was using her salon to move business money."
The room fell silent.
Rebecca leaned back.
"That may be significant, but investigators will need the original financial records."
Denise nodded.
"I understand."
Then she played a voice note.
Vanessa's voice filled the room.
"I don't care if Evelyn cries. Marcus says once this deal closes, we'll never have to worry about money again."
My mother's hand flew to her chest.
I reached for her.
But the recording continued.
"And Nia? She'll be too busy playing the heartbroken bride to figure anything out."
Tasha whispered something I couldn't repeat.
I stared at the phone.
They had underestimated me.
They had mistaken my kindness for weakness.
My trust for stupidity.
My love for permission to hurt me.
Rebecca asked Denise how she had obtained the recording.
"Vanessa sent it to me by mistake while she was messaging Marcus," Denise said. "She tried to delete it, but I'd already saved it."
Rebecca thanked her.
Then she asked about the anonymous messages.
Denise shook her head.
"Those weren't from me."
My heart sank.
"Then who?"
She hesitated.
"There's someone else you need to talk to."
"Who?"
"Marcus's former accountant. His name is Daniel Brooks."
I frowned.
"Brooks?"
Denise nodded.
"He's Vanessa's older brother."
I stared at her.
"Vanessa's brother worked for Marcus?"
"Until three weeks ago."
"Why did he leave?"
"He found something."
Rebecca leaned forward.
"What?"
Denise swallowed.
"Accounts that didn't match the invoices. Transfers into companies he didn't recognize. And copies of property documents with signatures that looked wrong."
I could barely breathe.
"Where is he now?"
"He left Atlanta."
"Why?"
Denise looked frightened.
"Because Marcus threatened him."
Before I could respond, Rebecca's assistant knocked.
"Rebecca, there's someone here asking for Nia."
My heart raced.
"Who?"
The assistant checked her notes.
"A man named Daniel Brooks."
Denise turned pale.
Rebecca stood.
"Bring him in."
A tall man wearing a gray jacket entered.
He looked exhausted.
He carried a black laptop case.
When he saw Denise, his eyes softened.
"I'm glad you're here."
Then he turned toward me.
"Nia Carter?"
"Yes."
He took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry about your wedding."
I stared at him.
"Are you the one sending the messages?"
He nodded.
"I couldn't come forward until I knew my children were safe."
I felt my knees weaken.
"Why?"
He opened his laptop.
"Because Marcus has been stealing money from more people than your family."
He placed a spreadsheet on the screen.
Dozens of transactions filled the page.
Names.
Dates.
Amounts.
I recognized some of the investors.
People who had attended my engagement party.
People Marcus had introduced as business partners.
Daniel pointed to one account.
"This is where Marcus moved the money he told investors was being used for venue renovations."
Then he scrolled down.
At the bottom was a company name I had never seen.
"Willow Creek Holdings LLC."
I stared at it.
"That's our property name."
Daniel nodded.
"And according to these records, Marcus planned to transfer control of the development operation to this company."
"Who owns it?"
May you like
He looked directly at me.
"Vanessa Brooks."
