Chapter 6
By Monday morning, I had stopped crying every time Marcus's name appeared on my phone.
The pain hadn't disappeared.
But something else had taken its place.
Determination.
I was no longer trying to understand why my husband had betrayed me.
I was trying to protect the life I had built.
Angela arranged a meeting with a forensic accountant named Simone Carter.
Simone was in her forties, calm, precise, and almost impossible to distract.
She spread the financial records across the conference table.
“We're going to follow the money,” she said.
I nodded.
“That's what I want.”
She examined the transfers from our household account.
The first suspicious withdrawal had occurred six months earlier.
Five thousand dollars.
Marcus described it as an investment expense.
Then came another withdrawal.
Eight thousand.
Then twelve thousand.
Then several smaller amounts.
Over time, nearly forty thousand dollars had disappeared.
Simone traced the funds through accounts associated with Marcus and Bennett Residential Holdings.
Some transfers led to legitimate expenses.
Others went to a consulting company with no apparent business activity.
That company had paid for travel, luxury gifts, and deposits on property.
I stared at the records.
“He used our money to pay for Vanessa?”
Simone looked at me.
“The transactions suggest some funds were used for expenses associated with her. We need to verify which payments were authorized and how the accounts were funded.”
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
For years, I had worried about saving enough for retirement.
Marcus had been spending money on another woman while telling me we needed to be careful.
I thought of the evenings when I skipped buying something for myself because our budget was tight.
The vacations I postponed.
The renovations I delayed.
The sacrifices I made because I believed we were building a shared future.
It made me sick.
Simone continued.
“The Florida property transaction appears to depend on financing that hasn't been completed.”
I looked up.
“So they don't have the money?”
“Not enough to close without additional funding.”
“Which is why they needed the loan against our home.”
“That appears to be one possibility.”
I leaned back.
The pieces were becoming clearer.
But one question remained.
Who was Claudia Pierce?
Angela had contacted the company listed on the purchase agreement.
Claudia was a real estate investor based in Miami.
She claimed to be buying the property through a joint venture with Marcus and Vanessa.
When Angela asked whether she knew the source of the financing, Claudia requested time to consult her attorney.
I didn't know whether she was involved in the fraud or had been misled.
I wasn't going to assume.
Then Erica arrived with the notebook.
She had driven from Charlotte that morning.
We sat together while Angela examined it.
The pages contained handwritten account numbers, dates, passwords, and financial notes.
Some belonged to Erica.
Others referenced accounts opened during their marriage.
Several entries contained unexplained amounts beside names.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Vanessa Carter.
I stared at it.
“Erica, when did you find this notebook?”
“After our separation.”
“That was more than ten years ago.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Angela.
“How could Vanessa's name be in it?”
Erica's face turned pale.
“I thought she was just someone Marcus knew through work.”
My heart pounded.
“You knew Vanessa?”
“Not personally. I saw her name in some of his notes.”
I stared at the page.
Vanessa Carter.
The name was written beside an old telephone number.
And next to it was a date.
Two months before Erica's divorce.
I felt a cold sensation move through my chest.
Vanessa wasn't a recent affair.
She had been connected to Marcus for years.
I turned toward Erica.
“Did you ever see her?”
Erica shook her head.
“No.”
“Did Marcus mention her?”
“Once. He said she was helping him find investment opportunities.”
I stared at the notebook.
The same kind of explanation he had given me.
Business.
Investments.
A better future.
I wondered how many women had heard those words.
Angela examined the timeline.
“If Vanessa has known Marcus this long, we need to determine whether she was involved in the earlier financial activity or whether this is a separate relationship.”
I nodded.
I wasn't interested in punishing Vanessa for assumptions.
I wanted to know what she had actually done.
That afternoon, a detective contacted Angela.
The investigators reviewing the property transfer had obtained additional evidence connecting the remote notarization session to Vanessa's rented property.
They also recovered communications discussing the need to make the signer resemble me.
The detective wouldn't provide every detail while the investigation was active.
But he confirmed that the evidence was being treated as potentially fraudulent.
I felt a mixture of relief and nausea.
Someone had tried to replace me on camera.
Not emotionally.
Literally.
They had dressed another woman to look like me so my home could be transferred without my consent.
The cruelty of it was almost impossible to understand.
That evening, Marcus arrived at Jasmine's apartment building.
He had apparently learned where I was staying.
He called from outside.
“Nia, come down.”
I looked at Jasmine.
She shook her head.
I answered through the phone.
“Leave.”
“We need to talk.”
“Through our attorneys.”
“Nia, I'm your husband.”
“Then you should have acted like one.”
His voice became angry.
“You're turning everyone against me.”
I took a breath.
“No, Marcus. Your actions are doing that.”
He was silent.
Then he said something that made me go cold.
“You think you know everything because you found a few papers?”
I gripped the phone.
“What does that mean?”
“You have no idea what you're getting involved in.”
I glanced at Jasmine.
She was already contacting building security.
“Marcus, leave.”
He laughed bitterly.
“You're going to regret this.”
I ended the call.
The building's security staff approached him outside.
He left without entering.
I saved the call record and notified Angela.
That night, I sat beside Jasmine on the couch.
She handed me a cup of tea.
“Are you scared?”
I considered lying.
Then I nodded.
“Yes.”
She took my hand.
“Good. Then we'll take the fear seriously and keep you safe.”
I smiled sadly.
“You sound like Angela.”
“She's smart.”
We laughed softly.
Then Jasmine became serious.
“Nia, I know you still love parts of the man you thought Marcus was.”
My throat tightened.
“Sometimes.”
“That doesn't mean you have to go back.”
I looked at her.
“I know.”
And for the first time, I truly believed it.
The following morning, Angela called with another update.
Claudia Pierce had provided her attorney with copies of the Florida property documents.
She claimed Marcus had represented Bennett Residential Holdings as a legitimate investment company with substantial assets.
She had no knowledge of any forged signatures.
But the most important document wasn't the purchase agreement.
It was an email Marcus had sent Claudia.
Angela read the relevant portion aloud.
Once Nia's property interest is transferred, the financing will be available. She has already agreed to the arrangement.
I closed my eyes.
Marcus had lied to Claudia, too.
Then Angela continued.
“There was an attachment.”
“What kind?”
“A document claiming you had consented to the transfer.”
I gripped the phone.
“Another forgery?”
“Potentially. We're having it examined.”
I stared at the wall.
The lies were spreading.
May you like
But now they were leaving a trail.
And for the first time, I believed that trail might lead to real justice.
