Chapter 4
I had never met the man Marcus described.
His name was Victor Langston.
According to my husband, Victor was a private investor who had known Evelyn for more than fifteen years.
He operated several small real estate companies around Atlanta.
Two years earlier, Evelyn had borrowed money from him.
At first, Marcus said the loan was only thirty thousand dollars.
Then another payment became necessary.
Then another.
By the time Evelyn realized she couldn't repay him, the debt had grown substantially.
"How much?" I asked.
Marcus stared at the table.
"Almost two hundred thousand."
I felt the air leave my lungs.
"Two hundred thousand dollars?"
He nodded.
I looked at Rachel.
She remained calm.
"What was the money used for?"
Marcus hesitated.
"Investments."
I almost laughed.
"What investments?"
"Mom wanted to renovate some rental properties."
I stared at him.
"Your mother doesn't own rental properties."
He lowered his head.
"I know."
I waited.
Then he explained.
Evelyn had invested in a property development that promised enormous returns.
She told Victor she would receive a large payout within six months.
But the investment failed.
Instead of telling her children, she borrowed more money.
She tried another investment.
That failed too.
Eventually, Victor demanded repayment.
Evelyn used the family home as collateral.
My stomach tightened.
"Does Marcus's childhood home belong to Evelyn?"
Rachel asked.
Marcus nodded.
"Yes."
"And was the loan properly secured against it?"
"I don't know."
I stared at him.
For years, Evelyn had portrayed herself as financially comfortable.
She wore expensive dresses.
Hosted elaborate gatherings.
Bought luxury gifts for Vanessa's children.
She loved telling people that she had raised successful adults.
Now I learned that her lifestyle was built on debt.
Debt she'd been trying to cover with my money.
I looked at Marcus.
"Why didn't she sell the house?"
He shook his head.
"She said it was Dad's legacy."
Marcus's father had died ten years earlier.
The family home was important to him.
I understood that.
But preserving a memory didn't justify stealing from someone else's business.
"Why didn't she tell anyone?"
"She was ashamed."
I stared at my husband.
"And you thought I should pay for her shame?"
He began crying again.
"I was trying to protect her."
I shook my head.
"By betraying me."
He couldn't answer.
Rachel asked him to provide copies of every message and financial document he had.
Marcus agreed.
Then she advised him to obtain independent legal counsel because his own involvement could create conflicts.
He looked frightened.
"Am I going to jail?"
Rachel answered carefully.
"That depends on the evidence and any applicable laws. You need advice about your own responsibilities."
I stared at him.
My husband had spent years avoiding uncomfortable conversations.
Now he was facing consequences he couldn't talk his way around.
After he left, I sat alone in my office.
I looked at the photographs on my desk.
One showed Marcus and me on our wedding day.
He wore a dark blue suit.
I wore an ivory gown.
We were laughing.
I remembered how happy I'd been.
How convinced I was that we'd built something lasting.
Another photograph showed me standing outside the first office I rented.
The sign was crooked.
The paint was peeling.
But I was smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.
I had built my business before I married Marcus.
I remembered carrying furniture upstairs myself.
Working on designs until three in the morning.
Eating instant noodles because every extra dollar went into the company.
I hadn't built it so Evelyn could fund her mistakes.
I hadn't sacrificed holidays and sleep so Vanessa could take luxury vacations.
I felt tears running down my cheeks.
Then my phone rang.
Angela.
"Nia, are you okay?"
I tried to answer.
But my voice broke.
My sister didn't ask another question.
"I'm coming."
Twenty minutes later, she walked into my office carrying two coffees.
She sat beside me.
I told her everything.
When I finished, she stared at the documents.
"One hundred and thirty-seven thousand dollars?"
I nodded.
"Maybe more."
Angela shook her head.
"Nia, how long has this been happening?"
"Almost a year."
She looked furious.
"And Marcus knew?"
I swallowed.
"He authorized most of it."
Angela was silent.
Then she asked, "What are you going to do?"
I looked at my wedding photograph.
For years, I'd believed leaving Marcus would mean abandoning the life we'd built.
But now I wondered whether that life had ever truly been ours.
"I don't know yet."
Angela squeezed my hand.
"Then don't decide today."
I nodded.
"But don't let guilt make the decision for you."
Her words stayed with me.
That evening, I returned to our house.
Marcus was waiting in the living room.
He stood when I entered.
"Nia?"
I placed my handbag on the counter.
"We need to talk."
He nodded.
"I know."
I looked around.
The beautiful furniture.
The expensive artwork.
The home I'd designed.
For years, I'd believed this house represented everything we'd achieved together.
Now it felt unfamiliar.
"Marcus, do you love me?"
His eyes widened.
"Of course."
"Then why was it easier to hurt me than disappoint your mother?"
He began crying.
"I don't know."
I stared at him.
"That's not enough anymore."
He nodded miserably.
"I know."
I took a breath.
"I need space."
His face went pale.
"Are you leaving?"
"For now."
"Nia, please."
I shook my head.
"I'm not discussing our marriage while I'm still discovering what you did."
He covered his mouth.
I continued.
"Every day, another secret appears."
He lowered his head.
"I'll tell you everything."
I looked at him.
"Then start with Victor."
Marcus hesitated.
My stomach tightened.
"Marcus?"
He looked frightened.
"Victor isn't just Mom's lender."
I stared at him.
"What?"
He swallowed.
"He invested in Vanessa's business too."
I felt cold.
"Vanessa doesn't have a business."
Marcus looked away.
"She does."
I took a slow breath.
"What business?"
He whispered, "Luxury event planning."
My heart pounded.
Evelyn Heritage Events.
The fake consulting payments.
The expensive restaurant.
The private birthday celebration.
Suddenly, the pieces began connecting.
"Marcus, are you telling me your mother and sister were using my company to finance their business?"
He nodded.
Then he looked at me with an expression I would never forget.
"Nia, they're planning a major launch next month."
I stared at him.
"What launch?"
He swallowed.
"A new event company."
My chest tightened.
"And?"
His voice became almost inaudible.
"They've been telling investors the company is backed by Nia Williams Design Group."
I stopped breathing.
My name.
My reputation.
My company.
May you like
They weren't just stealing money anymore.
They were using my business to convince other people to give them theirs.
