Chapter 5
I didn't sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the woman in the remote notarization recording.
The beige blazer.
The dark hair.
The carefully controlled voice.
Someone had pretended to be me.
Someone had attempted to use my identity to transfer my interest in the home I had spent years building.
And I suspected Vanessa.
But suspicion wasn't proof.
Angela reminded me of that when we met the following morning.
“We need to authenticate the recording and determine who participated,” she said.
I sat across from her in the conference room.
Jasmine was beside me.
Erica joined us by video call.
For the first time, I was looking at another woman Marcus had once promised to love forever.
Erica was forty-one, with warm brown eyes and a quiet, serious expression.
She looked tired.
Not weak.
Just tired in the way people become when they have spent years cleaning up someone else's damage.
Angela played the recording.
The woman on the screen wore a beige blazer.
Her face was partially obscured by poor lighting and an awkward camera angle.
But her voice was clear enough.
“Yes, I understand the transfer.”
The notary asked several verification questions.
The woman answered using my personal information.
Then she approved the signature.
I felt sick.
I had never seen this woman before.
Yet she knew my date of birth.
My address.
My identification number.
Information Marcus could have obtained from our household files.
Jasmine leaned forward.
“That looks like Vanessa.”
Angela paused the recording.
“It resembles her, but we need reliable identification. Appearance alone isn't enough.”
Erica spoke quietly.
“Can I hear her voice again?”
Angela replayed a section.
Erica's expression changed.
“I've heard that voice before.”
I turned toward the screen.
“Where?”
“When Vanessa called me last year.”
My pulse quickened.
“Are you sure?”
“I'm sure it sounds the same. But I can't say with certainty that it's her from this recording alone.”
Angela nodded.
“That distinction matters.”
She had already forwarded the relevant material to investigators and requested the original session data.
The notary's company was also conducting an internal review.
We weren't going to rely on guesses.
We were going to build a case.
After the meeting, Erica asked whether we could speak privately.
Angela stepped out.
Jasmine remained beside me.
Erica looked into the camera.
“Nia, there's something I haven't told you.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“When Marcus and I divorced, I found a notebook.”
I frowned.
“What kind of notebook?”
“He kept lists of accounts, passwords, and financial goals. At first, I thought it was normal budgeting.”
She hesitated.
“Then I realized some of the accounts weren't mine.”
I stared at her.
“Do you still have it?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you give it to the police?”
“I gave them copies of the relevant pages during the identity-theft investigation. They couldn't prove Marcus created the accounts.”
She looked down.
“But I kept the original.”
Angela returned when Erica asked her to.
Erica agreed to provide the notebook for review.
It wasn't proof of the current property scheme.
But it might help establish whether Marcus had a history of collecting other people's personal information for financial purposes.
I felt anger building.
For years, I had believed Marcus was careless with money.
Now I was beginning to wonder whether his carelessness had been selective.
He was always disorganized when bills needed paying.
But somehow, he knew exactly where our important documents were kept.
He forgot anniversaries.
But remembered account passwords.
He missed family events.
But never missed an opportunity to request money.
I had been carrying the weight of our marriage while he quietly gathered control.
That afternoon, Marcus returned to Atlanta.
I knew because he sent me a message.
I'm coming home. We need to talk.
I forwarded it to Angela.
She advised me to avoid confrontation and reminded me that Marcus's legal rights to the property needed to be handled through the court.
I wasn't going to change the locks or force him out unlawfully.
But I also wasn't going to sit alone in the house waiting for him.
Jasmine helped me pack an overnight bag.
We went to her apartment.
Before leaving, I secured my personal documents and arranged for our home security records to be preserved.
I wasn't trying to hide assets.
I was protecting evidence.
At seven that evening, Marcus called.
I answered with Jasmine beside me.
“Nia, where are you?”
“Somewhere safe.”
He sighed.
“Can we stop acting like strangers?”
I stared at the phone.
“You brought Vanessa on our anniversary trip.”
“That was a misunderstanding.”
“No.”
“Nia, please.”
His voice softened.
“I love you.”
For ten years, those words had been enough to make me forgive almost anything.
Now they sounded like part of a familiar routine.
“You love me?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“Then why did you try to transfer our house into a company you own with Vanessa?”
Silence.
Then he laughed nervously.
“What are you talking about?”
“Bennett Residential Holdings.”
The silence returned.
I continued.
“The six-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar loan application.”
He took a breath.
“Nia, that's not what you think.”
“Then explain it.”
“It was a business arrangement.”
“With my forged signature?”
His voice sharpened.
“Watch what you're accusing me of.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
There he was.
The man who turned every question into an attack.
The man who made me feel guilty for noticing things.
I kept my voice calm.
“I'm not discussing this without my attorney.”
“Nia, don't do this.”
“Goodbye, Marcus.”
I ended the call.
Jasmine looked at me.
“You okay?”
I nodded.
Then my eyes filled with tears.
“No.”
She hugged me.
And for the first time, I didn't apologize for crying.
The following morning, Angela called with significant news.
The notary's company had provided additional technical records.
The remote session originated from a device connected to a network associated with a short-term rental property.
That property had been rented by Vanessa Carter.
I sat upright.
“Does that prove it was her?”
“Not by itself,” Angela said. “But it connects her to the location used during the session.”
The investigators were now examining payment records, device identifiers, and other evidence.
Then Angela told me something else.
“The lender provided the business account information associated with Bennett Residential Holdings.”
I held my breath.
“What did they find?”
“The company has received several deposits over the past two months.”
“From where?”
“One payment came from a consulting account linked to Marcus.”
“That doesn't surprise me.”
“But another came from a business registered to a woman named Claudia Pierce.”
I frowned.
“I don't know her.”
Angela continued.
“Neither do I. We're investigating the connection.”
Then she paused.
“Nia, Claudia Pierce is also listed as the buyer on a purchase agreement for a waterfront property in Florida.”
My heart began pounding.
“What property?”
“A luxury residence valued at approximately nine hundred thousand dollars.”
I stared at Jasmine.
“Is Marcus involved?”
Angela took a breath.
“His name appears in the financing documents.”
I felt dizzy.
The house.
The loan.
The mysterious company.
The engagement ring.
It was all connected to a larger financial plan.
Then Angela delivered the final detail.
“The purchase agreement includes a projected closing date.”
“When?”
“Next Friday.”
I closed my eyes.
Marcus and Vanessa weren't simply planning a future someday.
May you like
They were trying to buy it immediately.
And the money they expected to use was tied to my home.
