Chapter 2
I didn't tell my mother about the missing money.
Not immediately.
She was shivering beside me in the back seat of my car, wrapped in my tuxedo jacket while I drove away from the engagement party.
Her wet shoes sat on a towel near her feet.
Every few minutes, she glanced at me.
"Nick, sweetheart, please don't be angry."
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
"Mom, I'm not angry with you."
"I know. But you looked so upset."
I swallowed.
"I was upset because someone hurt you."
She stared out the window.
"I shouldn't have come."
Those words struck me harder than anything Vanessa had said.
I pulled into a quiet parking lot and turned toward her.
"Mom, look at me."
She did.
"You were invited because you're my mother. You had every right to be there."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"But Vanessa said—"
I stopped breathing.
"What did Vanessa say?"
Martha looked down.
"Nothing important."
"Mom."
She rubbed her hands together.
"She told me your friends were different from the people I was used to."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What else?"
"She said I should try not to talk too much about my old jobs."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
"She said wealthy people might misunderstand."
I closed my eyes.
My mother had spent her life working honestly.
She had never stolen anything.
Never asked anyone for charity.
Never complained about the sacrifices she'd made.
And Vanessa had treated that history like something shameful.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Martha touched my hand.
"Because you seemed happy."
I looked away.
That was the answer that hurt most.
She had been willing to endure humiliation because she believed I was happy.
I started the car again.
We drove to my mother's small brick house on the south side of Atlanta.
It was the same house where I'd grown up.
The porch railing still needed painting.
The kitchen cabinets were old.
But everything was clean, warm, and familiar.
My mother had never wanted me to buy her a mansion.
When I offered, she laughed.
"What would I do with six bedrooms, Nick? Get lost looking for the bathroom?"
She liked her little house.
She liked her neighbors.
She liked the garden my father had planted before he died.
I helped her inside.
Then I called my cousin Angela, who worked as a nurse.
Angela arrived twenty minutes later.
She checked Mom for injuries and made sure she was warm and comfortable.
Thankfully, she appeared to have escaped serious physical harm.
But Angela insisted that we document what happened and arrange a medical evaluation.
"People can get hurt even when they don't feel it right away," she reminded me.
My mother nodded reluctantly.
Once she was settled, I stepped into the kitchen and called my accountant.
His name was David Brooks.
He had handled my business finances for eight years.
"David, what's going on?"
His voice sounded strained.
"Nick, I noticed an unusual transfer when I reviewed the accounts tonight."
"How much?"
"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars."
I closed my eyes.
"Where did it go?"
"To a company called V Holdings Group."
I frowned.
"I've never heard of it."
"Neither have I."
"When did this happen?"
"Yesterday afternoon."
I stared at the refrigerator.
Yesterday, Vanessa had been at the bridal boutique.
She'd called me three times complaining about final alterations.
She'd also borrowed my business laptop that morning.
She claimed she needed to print a contract for the wedding planner.
Suddenly, that memory felt different.
"David, who authorized the transfer?"
"That's the problem. It used your credentials."
My stomach dropped.
"But you didn't approve it?"
"No."
I heard him exhale.
"Then someone accessed the account without your permission."
I leaned against the counter.
"Can we reverse it?"
"We've contacted the bank's fraud department. They may be able to recall some or all of it, depending on where the money went."
I stared at the floor.
"Do whatever you need to do."
"Nick, there's something else."
My heart pounded.
"What?"
"The company receiving the money was registered three months ago."
"Who owns it?"
He hesitated.
"Vanessa's mother."
I felt the room tilt.
Vanessa's mother, Patricia Monroe, had spent the past year treating me like the perfect son-in-law.
She praised my business.
Called me ambitious.
Said her daughter was lucky to find a man who knew how to provide.
I'd paid for Patricia's hotel suite during the engagement celebration.
I'd even offered to cover her travel expenses for the wedding.
Now a company registered in her name had received a quarter of a million dollars from my business.
I swallowed.
"Send me everything."
"I already have."
I ended the call.
Then I sat at my mother's kitchen table.
For several minutes, I couldn't move.
My construction company employed forty-two people.
Forty-two workers depended on me to meet payroll.
That money wasn't some private fortune I could casually lose.
It was part of the reserve I kept for materials, wages, and unexpected expenses.
If I couldn't recover it, innocent people could suffer.
My phone rang.
Vanessa.
I stared at her name.
Then I answered.
"Nick!"
Her voice was sharp.
"Have you completely lost your mind?"
I remained silent.
She continued.
"People are calling me! The wedding planner says payments were interrupted!"
"Vanessa."
"You embarrassed me in front of everyone!"
"Vanessa."
"What?"
I took a slow breath.
"What is V Holdings Group?"
Silence.
Then she laughed.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars left my business account yesterday."
She didn't answer.
"It went to a company registered in your mother's name."
The silence stretched.
Finally, she spoke.
"Nick, before you overreact—"
My chest tightened.
"Did you take the money?"
"It's complicated."
I closed my eyes.
"Did you take it?"
She exhaled sharply.
"That money was supposed to secure our future."
I felt sick.
"Our future?"
"Yes!"
"You transferred business funds without telling me."
"We were about to get married!"
"That doesn't give you permission to steal from my company."
She became defensive.
"Don't use that word."
"Then tell me what you call it."
She remained silent.
I looked toward the living room.
My mother sat on the couch beneath an old quilt.
She had spent years teaching me that character mattered more than money.
Now I understood exactly what she meant.
"Vanessa, where is the money?"
"Safe."
"Where?"
"With my mother."
I closed my eyes.
"Return it."
She laughed bitterly.
"You're really going to throw away our future over one embarrassing misunderstanding?"
I stared at the phone.
"You pushed my mother into a fountain."
"It was an accident!"
"No, Vanessa. I saw you."
Her voice hardened.
"If you cancel the wedding, you'll lose more than a few deposits."
A chill moved through me.
"What does that mean?"
She lowered her voice.
"You signed documents last week, Nick."
I frowned.
"What documents?"
"The ones concerning the house."
My heart skipped.
The beautiful house I'd purchased for our future.
The house that had cost nearly $900,000.
The house I believed was titled only in my name.
"What did you do?"
Vanessa laughed softly.
"You should really read things before you sign them."
Then she ended the call.
May you like
I stared at my phone.
And for the first time, I wondered whether Vanessa had been planning my financial destruction long before she pushed my mother into that fountain.
