Chapter 3
Charles Whitfield reached for the document.
Mr. Bennett pulled it away.
"That is a confidential legal record, Mr. Whitfield."
Charles forced a laugh.
"Surely there's been some misunderstanding."
I looked at him.
"Then explain it."
He turned toward me.
"Evelyn, there's no reason to make a scene."
I almost laughed.
For the past twenty minutes, his daughter had humiliated me in front of six hundred people.
Now he wanted privacy.
"Your daughter made a scene," I replied. "Mr. Bennett is asking a question."
Marcus stood beside me.
His face was hard.
"Dad," Nia whispered, "what's going on?"
Charles ignored her.
He looked at the attorney.
"Where did you get that?"
"From my office records."
Mr. Bennett opened the document.
"Three days ago, someone identifying himself as your financial adviser requested information about the Bennett Family Trust."
Charles's jaw tightened.
"That could have been anyone."
"The request contained your company letterhead."
He swallowed.
"And?"
"It included a signed authorization that appeared to come from Marcus."
My son stepped forward.
"What?"
I felt my heart pound.
Mr. Bennett continued.
"The signature did not match the verified signature we have on file. We rejected the request."
Marcus stared at Charles.
"Why would your financial adviser want information about my grandmother's trust?"
Charles raised both hands.
"Let's not jump to conclusions."
Nia grabbed his arm.
"Dad, did you know about this money?"
He looked at her sharply.
"Not here."
Her face changed.
"Answer me."
Charles looked around the ballroom.
Hundreds of people had stopped eating.
The musicians had fallen silent.
Even the servers stood motionless.
Finally, Charles leaned toward Marcus.
"Son, perhaps we should discuss business somewhere private."
Marcus didn't move.
"Don't call me son."
I felt the words strike Charles.
His expression hardened.
"Watch your tone."
Marcus stepped closer.
"You came into my wedding and tried to get information about my family's money. You don't get to tell me how to speak."
Nia grabbed his sleeve.
"Marcus, stop embarrassing my father."
He turned toward her.
"You embarrassed my mother."
She opened her mouth.
He continued.
"And when I asked you to stop, you laughed."
Her eyes filled with tears.
But I had seen those tears before.
They usually appeared when Marcus stopped giving her what she wanted.
"You're choosing her over me," Nia whispered.
I felt my chest tighten.
There it was.
The sentence that had frightened me since their engagement.
The idea that loving his mother meant betraying his wife.
Marcus looked exhausted.
"I'm not choosing between you. I'm asking you to treat her with respect."
Nia shook her head.
"You always take her side."
I took a step backward.
"Marcus, sweetheart, I don't want to come between you."
He turned immediately.
"Mom, you aren't."
His voice softened.
"You didn't do anything wrong."
I looked at the handkerchief.
It still rested carefully in his palm.
For twenty-nine years, I had tried to protect him from disappointment.
But I couldn't protect him from this.
Charles cleared his throat.
"Look, this wedding is costing my family nearly four hundred thousand dollars."
I stared at him.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means we've made a significant investment in this union."
Marcus went still.
"Investment?"
Charles blinked.
"I meant financially."
My son stared at him.
"Are you talking about my marriage like it's a business deal?"
"Don't twist my words."
Marcus looked toward Nia.
She wouldn't meet his eyes.
I felt a terrible suspicion growing.
"Nia," I said quietly, "did you know your father was asking about our family trust?"
She looked at me.
"Why would I know anything about it?"
Her answer sounded rehearsed.
Mr. Bennett opened another page.
"The request was accompanied by a copy of a document Marcus signed last month."
Marcus frowned.
"What document?"
"A preliminary property disclosure form."
My heart sank.
Nia suddenly looked away.
Marcus stared at her.
"You asked me to sign some wedding paperwork."
She folded her arms.
"So?"
"You said it was for the event insurance."
"It was."
Mr. Bennett shook his head.
"The form appears to have been altered after it was signed."
The room fell completely silent.
Marcus looked at the attorney.
"Altered how?"
"Additional language was inserted requesting access to information about family assets."
Nia's face turned white.
Charles spoke quickly.
"That doesn't prove anything."
Mr. Bennett nodded.
"Correct. Which is why we referred the document to independent counsel for review."
I looked at Marcus.
His expression was breaking my heart.
Not because he was angry.
Because he was beginning to question every happy memory he had made with his bride.
The engagement.
The planning.
The promises.
The future he had imagined.
"Nia," he whispered, "did you give my signature to your father?"
She swallowed.
"I gave him some papers."
"Why?"
"He said his accountant needed them."
Marcus stared.
"You didn't ask me?"
"I didn't think it mattered."
His voice cracked.
"You didn't think my signature mattered?"
She reached for him.
"Baby, please."
He stepped backward.
And I watched her hand fall.
Charles suddenly turned toward Mr. Bennett.
"I suggest you be very careful about accusing my family of anything."
The attorney remained calm.
"I'm not accusing anyone without evidence."
Charles sneered.
"Then stop waving documents around."
I had endured enough.
"Mr. Whitfield."
He turned.
I stood straight.
For the first time that evening, I stopped trying to disappear.
"My son has never measured his worth by money."
Charles opened his mouth.
I continued.
"He worked while he was in college. He paid his own bills. He helped neighbors without asking for anything."
I looked at Nia.
"And he loved your daughter before he knew anything about this trust."
Marcus lowered his eyes.
I felt tears slide down my cheeks.
"If your family believed marrying him was a financial opportunity, you misunderstood the kind of man he is."
Charles laughed bitterly.
"Please. Everyone cares about money."
I shook my head.
"Not everyone sells their dignity for it."
A few guests began clapping.
Then others joined.
Charles's face grew red.
Nia looked furious.
"You're ruining my wedding!"
I stared at her.
"Your wedding was never mine to ruin."
She turned toward Marcus.
"Are you going to let her speak to me like that?"
My son took a slow breath.
Then he removed the wedding ring from his left hand.
My heart nearly stopped.
Nia gasped.
"Marcus?"
He looked at the ring.
Then at her.
"I need to know whether you married me because you love me."
She began crying.
"Of course I did."
He shook his head.
"Then why does everything tonight keep coming back to money?"
She reached for his hand.
"You're overreacting."
He closed his fingers around the ring.
"No. I've been ignoring things for too long."
Mr. Bennett touched my elbow.
"Mrs. Carter, perhaps we should pause the trust discussion."
I nodded.
"Yes."
But before we could leave, a young woman stepped forward from the bridal party.
She wore a pale pink dress.
Her hands were trembling.
I recognized her as Nia's maid of honor.
Her name was Danielle.
She looked at Marcus.
"I'm sorry."
Nia's head snapped toward her.
"Danielle, don't."
The young woman began crying.
"Marcus, there's something you need to know."
Nia moved toward her.
"Shut up!"
Marcus stepped between them.
"What is it?"
Danielle looked terrified.
Then she whispered, "Nia knew about the trust before she agreed to marry you."
I stared at her.
May you like
Marcus stopped breathing.
And Nia screamed, "You're lying!"
