Chapter 3
The first thing Marcus did was lock every door in our house.
The second was call the police.
And the third was ask me a question that hurt more than anything he'd said at the restaurant.
"How many people are in danger because you kept this secret?"
I stood in our living room, still wearing my black birthday dress.
My makeup had run.
My hair was tangled.
And the divorce papers lay on our coffee table like a warning.
"I don't know," I whispered.
Marcus looked away.
I could see the exhaustion in his face.
Seven years of marriage.
Seven years of promises.
And in one night, I'd forced him to question everything.
The officers arrived shortly after midnight.
They examined the threatening messages.
Asked about Victor.
And took the details of the man who had approached us at the restaurant.
I gave them everything I remembered.
The threats from four years earlier.
Elijah's disappearance.
The hidden account.
The unfamiliar transfers.
I didn't hide anything this time.
When they left, an investigator promised to contact us after reviewing the information.
Marcus stood near the front door.
He looked at me.
"Call your brother."
I froze.
"What?"
"Call Elijah."
I swallowed.
"I can't."
His expression hardened.
"Why?"
"Because he changes numbers. We only communicate through a secure arrangement."
Marcus laughed bitterly.
"Of course."
I stepped closer.
"Marcus, please."
He raised one hand.
"Don't."
I stopped.
He looked devastated.
"I don't know what to believe anymore."
My eyes filled.
"Believe that I love you."
He stared at me.
"Love isn't supposed to require this many lies."
I couldn't answer.
He was right.
I had told myself every secret was necessary.
Every half-truth was protection.
But somewhere along the way, I'd forgotten that Marcus deserved to make his own choices.
I had taken that away from him.
"I was wrong," I whispered.
He looked surprised.
I continued.
"I should've told you the truth before we got married."
My voice broke.
"I should've trusted you enough to decide whether you wanted to be part of this."
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
"And the account?"
"I should've told you about that too."
He nodded slowly.
Then he picked up the divorce papers.
"I'm staying in the guest room."
My heart sank.
"Marcus..."
"I need space."
I looked at him.
"Are you still divorcing me?"
He hesitated.
"I don't know."
Those four words destroyed me.
But I nodded.
Because I had no right to demand an answer that night.
I went upstairs.
Changed out of my dress.
Washed my face.
And sat on the edge of our bed.
For the first time in seven years, Marcus wasn't sleeping beside me.
The silence was unbearable.
At three in the morning, my phone rang.
Tasha.
I stared at her name.
Then answered.
"What do you want?"
She was crying.
"Nia, please don't hang up."
I closed my eyes.
"You gave my husband my private records."
"I know."
"You destroyed my marriage."
Her voice broke.
"I didn't know he would serve you papers at the restaurant."
I laughed bitterly.
"That's your defense?"
"No."
I could hear her breathing shakily.
"I need to tell you something."
I stared at the wall.
"What?"
"Victor contacted me."
My body went cold.
"When?"
"Two months ago."
I sat straight up.
"What?"
"He said he was investigating financial fraud."
I couldn't speak.
Tasha continued.
"He told me your account was connected to money stolen from investors."
My stomach twisted.
"He lied."
"I know that now."
"Why didn't you ask me?"
She began sobbing.
"Because he showed me documents."
"What documents?"
"Bank statements. Business records. Your name."
I closed my eyes.
She had believed a stranger over me.
My best friend.
The woman who had stood beside me on my wedding day.
"How did he know you?" I asked.
Tasha hesitated.
"I met him through someone."
"Who?"
She didn't answer.
"Tasha."
Her voice dropped.
"My boyfriend."
I froze.
"What boyfriend?"
She had been dating a man named Damian for six months.
He was charming.
Successful.
Always buying her expensive gifts.
I'd met him twice.
Something about him had felt wrong.
But I hadn't said anything.
"Damian?" I whispered.
"Yes."
I stood.
"What's his last name?"
She began crying harder.
"Harlan."
My heart stopped.
Victor Harlan.
Damian Harlan.
I pressed a hand against my mouth.
"He's Victor's son?"
Tasha whispered, "Yes."
I felt sick.
For months, Victor's family had been close to my closest friend.
Close enough to learn about my marriage.
My business.
My routines.
My passwords.
Everything.
"Tasha, listen carefully."
She sobbed.
"I'm sorry."
"Where are you?"
"At home."
"Is Damian there?"
"No."
I looked toward the bedroom door.
"Lock it."
She stopped crying.
"What?"
"Lock every door. Don't answer if he comes over."
"Nia, you're scaring me."
"Good."
My voice shook.
"Because I think he used you to get to me."
There was a long silence.
Then Tasha whispered, "There's something else."
I closed my eyes.
"What now?"
"Damian told me to send the documents to Marcus."
My stomach dropped.
"He told you to?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"He said Marcus deserved to know."
I stared at the wall.
"But he also said something strange."
"What?"
Tasha swallowed.
"He said once Marcus filed for divorce, you wouldn't have anyone left to protect you."
My knees weakened.
I sat down.
Victor hadn't simply discovered my secret.
He had been planning to isolate me.
To destroy my marriage.
To make me desperate.
I thought about Marcus's face at the restaurant.
His anger.
His disappointment.
The pain in his eyes.
They had used the truth I'd hidden to turn my husband against me.
And I'd made it easy.
Because I'd never trusted Marcus with the whole story.
I looked toward the guest room.
"Tasha, I'm calling the detective."
She began crying.
"I'll tell them everything."
I took a breath.
"You need to."
After hanging up, I immediately forwarded the information to the investigator.
Then I knocked on Marcus's door.
He opened it wearing a T-shirt.
His eyes were tired.
"What happened?"
I showed him the messages.
And told him about Damian.
Marcus listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he sat on the edge of the bed.
"So Victor's son was dating your best friend."
I nodded.
"And using her to get our financial information."
"Yes."
He stared at me.
"How long?"
"At least two months."
Marcus covered his face.
I sat beside him.
Not too close.
I didn't want to make him uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
He looked up.
"For what?"
"For not realizing they were getting close."
He shook his head.
"Nia, you couldn't have known Damian was his son."
I looked down.
"But I could've told you the truth."
He didn't argue.
For several minutes, we sat in silence.
Then Marcus asked, "Do you still have contact with Elijah?"
I nodded.
"There is one way."
He waited.
"I can send a message through his attorney."
Marcus leaned forward.
"Then do it."
I looked at him.
"Now?"
"Now."
I contacted the attorney through the emergency number I'd been given years earlier.
Her name was Rachel Price.
She answered after several rings.
"Nia?"
My throat tightened.
"Rachel, Victor found me."
She went silent.
Then asked, "Where are you?"
"Home."
"Is Marcus with you?"
I froze.
I had never told Rachel about Marcus directly.
"How do you know his name?"
She hesitated.
Then whispered, "Nia, there's something you need to understand."
My heart pounded.
"What?"
"Elijah has been trying to contact you."
I stood.
"What do you mean?"
"For three weeks."
My body went cold.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because someone intercepted his last message."
I stared at Marcus.
He was watching me closely.
Rachel continued.
"Nia, Elijah believes Victor has access to people inside the financial investigation."
I could barely breathe.
"Where is my brother?"
She paused.
Then said something that made my entire body tremble.
"He's on his way to Atlanta."
I froze.
"Why?"
"Because he discovered something about your husband."
I looked at Marcus.
My heart hammered.
May you like
Rachel's voice dropped.
"Something that could put Marcus in prison."
