Chapter 4
I called Aunt Denise before breakfast.
My hands were shaking.
But my voice was steady.
"Did you know Marcus owned Crestline?"
Silence.
Then she sighed.
"Nia, sweetheart, let's discuss this calmly."
I closed my eyes.
"Did you know?"
"Business arrangements can be complicated."
"Yes or no?"
She hesitated.
"Yes."
I felt something inside me break.
"How long?"
"Nia—"
"How long have you been working with him?"
She took a breath.
"Several months."
I stared at the wall.
Several months.
While I tried on wedding dresses.
While I chose flowers.
While I planned a future with Marcus.
My aunt had been helping him arrange a deal that could take millions from our family company.
"Why?" I whispered.
Denise's voice became defensive.
"Because Harbor Point is our best opportunity to expand."
"Then why hide your ownership?"
"Isaiah would never agree."
"Maybe because the fees are outrageous."
She sighed.
"You're repeating your brother's opinions."
I felt anger rise.
"No. I'm reading the documents."
Denise became quiet.
Then she said something that hurt worse than I expected.
"Your mother wanted this company to grow. She would have understood."
I stood abruptly.
"Don't use my mother to defend this."
"Nia—"
"My mother believed in honest business."
"Your mother wasn't perfect."
I froze.
There was something bitter in her voice.
Something I had never heard before.
"What does that mean?"
Denise hesitated.
Then she said, "You and Isaiah inherited everything while I spent twenty years helping build it."
I stared at the phone.
There it was.
Resentment.
Not concern for the company.
Not excitement about redevelopment.
Resentment.
"Aunt Denise, Mom left you thirty percent."
"And I was grateful."
"You don't sound grateful."
She went silent.
Then she whispered, "You don't understand what it's like to work beside someone everyone calls a genius while you're treated like an assistant."
I felt my throat tighten.
I had never realized Denise felt that way about my mother.
"That doesn't give you the right to deceive us."
She sighed.
"Marcus said you would approve the deal."
"Marcus lied."
"Then we need to discuss the financial implications."
I looked toward Isaiah.
He was standing in the doorway.
I took a breath.
"Did you authorize someone to use my electronic signature?"
Silence.
My heart began pounding.
"Denise?"
She whispered, "I didn't think it would matter once you agreed."
I closed my eyes.
"You used my name without permission?"
"Nia, nobody has lost anything."
"That's not the point."
She became angry.
"Don't speak to me like I'm a criminal."
I stared at the wall.
"Then stop acting like my consent is something you can invent."
I ended the call.
My hands were trembling.
Isaiah approached carefully.
"What did she say?"
I looked at him.
"She admitted she knew."
His expression fell.
"And the signature?"
"She didn't deny it."
Isaiah closed his eyes.
I sat down.
For years, I had believed our family could survive anything because we had each other.
Now I wasn't sure what remained.
That afternoon, we met with our company attorney, Angela Brooks.
She was a respected corporate lawyer in her forties.
She had worked with Bellamy Hospitality for nearly a decade.
When I showed her the shareholder resolution, she examined it carefully.
"Nia, did you authorize this signature?"
"No."
"Did you receive the document for review?"
"No."
She nodded.
"Then we need to preserve the original electronic records and determine how it was created."
I looked at her.
"Can Marcus use it to force the deal through?"
"Not lawfully if the signature was unauthorized. But we need to establish the facts and notify the relevant parties immediately."
Isaiah leaned forward.
"What about Denise's approval?"
Angela turned toward him.
"Denise can express support as a shareholder. But approving a transaction involving undisclosed personal interests raises serious concerns."
I looked down.
"So the deal can be stopped?"
"We can take immediate steps to prevent action based on disputed authorization while the matter is reviewed."
I felt relief.
Then Angela added, "But there's something else we need to discuss."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"The proposed contract includes an advance payment."
Isaiah frowned.
"What advance?"
"Two million dollars payable to Crestline upon execution."
I stared at her.
"Two million?"
Angela nodded.
"Even before construction begins."
I looked toward Isaiah.
His face had gone pale.
"That's why they were desperate for Nia's signature," he whispered.
I pressed my hands against my forehead.
Two million dollars.
My husband had planned to collect a fortune from my family's company.
And he believed I would be too desperate to preserve our marriage to question him.
Angela continued.
"There's a clause allowing additional performance payments if the redevelopment proceeds."
"How much?"
She checked the document.
"Up to another three million."
I felt sick.
Five million dollars.
Hidden behind consulting fees.
I thought of Marcus laughing at my ruined wedding dress.
He had planned to humiliate me for entertainment while preparing to use my signature for a multimillion-dollar deal.
Then Angela asked something unexpected.
"Nia, did you sign a prenuptial agreement?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
"Do you have a copy?"
"At home."
"Did Marcus have his own attorney review it?"
"Yes."
Angela looked thoughtful.
"Good. We should review it, but your premarital company shares may be protected under its terms."
I looked at her.
"Does that mean Marcus can't simply take them because we're married?"
"Marriage doesn't automatically give him control of your shares. The exact rights depend on the documents and applicable law."
For the first time since the wedding, I felt a small amount of hope.
Marcus had spent months making me believe marriage would give him power over everything I owned.
Now I realized he might have been bluffing.
That evening, I returned briefly to the apartment with Camille and Isaiah.
Marcus wasn't there.
I collected my personal documents, laptop, and the folder containing our prenuptial agreement.
As I opened the desk drawer, I noticed a small black notebook.
It belonged to Marcus.
He used it for business appointments.
Normally, I wouldn't have opened it.
But the cover had a label that caught my attention.
HARBOR POINT.
I looked toward Isaiah.
He approached.
I opened the notebook.
Inside were dates, payment amounts, and meeting notes.
Several entries mentioned Devin.
Others mentioned Denise.
Then I reached a page written two weeks before the wedding.
One sentence was circled.
Marriage first. Signature second. Transfer before Nia changes her mind.
I stared at it.
My hands began shaking.
Then I turned the page.
There was another note.
Make sure she feels trapped by the wedding publicity.
I covered my mouth.
The cake prank hadn't simply been cruelty.
It was part of something worse.
Marcus wanted to prove that he could humiliate me publicly and still control me.
May you like
He wanted me to believe leaving him would be more embarrassing than staying.
And he intended to use that fear to steal my future.
