Chapter 2
The first person I called after leaving my husband was not a friend.
It was my attorney.
Her name was Danielle Brooks.
She had represented my family's investment company for eleven years.
She was sharp, careful, and almost impossible to intimidate.
Most importantly, she knew something Marcus didn't.
The money behind his beautiful life had never belonged entirely to him.
When I arrived at Danielle's office, she was waiting in the conference room.
A thick blue folder sat on the table.
Beside it was a glass of water.
She stood when I entered.
“Nia.”
I tried to smile.
Instead, my face crumpled.
Danielle walked around the table and hugged me.
For the first time since leaving the mansion, I allowed myself to cry.
“He brought her into our home.”
Danielle held me tighter.
“I know.”
“She's pregnant.”
“I know.”
“His mother threw me out like I was nothing.”
My voice broke.
“Like I hadn't spent eight years loving that family.”
Danielle guided me into a chair.
“Drink some water.”
I obeyed.
My hands were shaking.
She waited until I could breathe normally.
Then she sat across from me.
“Tell me exactly what happened.”
I described everything.
Evelyn throwing my suitcase.
Marcus walking outside with Vanessa.
The pregnancy.
The envelope.
The way he said he was completely certain he wanted a divorce.
Danielle listened without interrupting.
When I finished, I pushed the envelope toward her.
“He wants me to sign this.”
She opened it.
Her expression hardened as she read.
“Fifty thousand dollars?”
I nodded.
She turned another page.
“Waiver of business interests?”
“Yes.”
“Waiver of property claims?”
“Yes.”
Then she looked up.
“Nia, did he really believe you would sign this?”
I laughed bitterly.
“He thinks I don't understand his finances.”
Danielle closed the folder.
“That's going to become a serious problem for him.”
I looked toward the windows.
Atlanta stretched across the horizon.
The city looked peaceful.
Inside, my life felt shattered.
Danielle reached for another document.
“Before we proceed, I need to confirm something.”
I turned.
“What?”
“Did Marcus ever tell you about the refinancing application submitted last month?”
My stomach tightened.
“What refinancing application?”
She watched me carefully.
“Someone contacted the lender holding the mortgage on Carter Heights.”
Carter Heights was the luxury mansion.
Marcus named it after himself.
He loved having the name engraved beside the front gates.
I leaned forward.
“Why would anyone refinance the house?”
Danielle hesitated.
“The application sought a three-million-dollar increase in borrowing.”
I stared at her.
“Three million?”
“Yes.”
“Marcus never mentioned that.”
“I suspected he hadn't.”
I closed my eyes.
Danielle continued.
“The application also included an authorization that appeared to contain your signature.”
My eyes opened.
“What?”
She turned her laptop toward me.
A scanned document appeared.
At the bottom was my name.
Nia Carter.
The signature looked almost perfect.
But I hadn't signed it.
I leaned closer.
“That's not mine.”
Danielle nodded.
“We're having it examined.”
I stared at the screen.
Why would Marcus need three million dollars?
His development company was supposed to be profitable.
He drove luxury cars.
He hosted charity events.
He wore watches that cost more than most people earned in a year.
Had it all been an illusion?
Danielle opened another file.
“There's something else.”
I felt sick.
“What now?”
“Carter Development has missed several repayment obligations.”
I stared at her.
“That's impossible.”
She shook her head.
“The company has serious liquidity problems.”
“How serious?”
“Serious enough that its lenders have started requesting additional guarantees.”
I covered my mouth.
Marcus had spent months telling me everything was wonderful.
He said the company was expanding.
He claimed new contracts were coming.
And all the while, he was trying to borrow against our home.
I looked at Danielle.
“Does he know the bank contacted us?”
“Not yet.”
I took a breath.
“Good.”
She studied me.
“Nia, I need you to understand something.”
I nodded.
“The financial issues are separate from your personal pain. We have to document everything carefully.”
“I know.”
“Don't make decisions just because you're angry.”
I looked at her.
“I'm not trying to destroy him.”
She waited.
“I just refuse to let him destroy me.”
Danielle nodded.
“That's the right place to start.”
She explained our immediate steps.
We would preserve the divorce documents.
Notify the lender that I disputed the signature.
Review the company's financial records.
And prevent unauthorized changes to assets in which my family's company held an interest.
Nothing would happen through secret threats or dramatic phone calls.
Everything would be documented.
Every action would be lawful.
Marcus had spent years telling me business was too complicated for me.
Now I intended to understand every page.
When the meeting ended, Danielle walked me to the elevator.
“Where are you staying?”
I hesitated.
“I haven't decided.”
She frowned.
“Nia.”
I smiled sadly.
“I left with one suitcase.”
She touched my arm.
“You have options.”
I nodded.
I did.
That was another thing Marcus had forgotten.
Before marrying him, I inherited a minority interest in my father's investment firm.
Over the years, I had become actively involved in its operations.
I didn't discuss my investments with Marcus because he hated feeling that I knew more about money than he did.
Whenever I questioned one of his business decisions, he accused me of undermining him.
Eventually, I stopped discussing my work at home.
It was easier than arguing.
Now I regretted the silence.
I drove to a furnished apartment owned by my family's company.
It overlooked a quiet park.
My father used it when visiting Atlanta.
He had offered it to me countless times.
I always refused because I wanted Marcus to believe I was committed to our marriage.
That evening, I finally accepted the keys.
As I entered, my phone rang.
Marcus.
I watched his name appear.
Then I answered.
“Hello?”
His voice sounded irritated.
“Where are you?”
I looked around the apartment.
“Somewhere safe.”
“Nia, don't be dramatic.”
I closed my eyes.
“What do you want?”
“You left without signing the papers.”
“I noticed.”
He sighed.
“Can we please handle this like adults?”
I almost laughed.
“You brought another woman into our home.”
He remained silent.
“Your mother threw my suitcase onto the driveway.”
Still nothing.
“And you handed me divorce papers in front of your pregnant mistress.”
“Nia, Vanessa isn't my mistress anymore.”
My throat tightened.
“What?”
“We're together.”
I looked toward the window.
“Congratulations.”
He sounded annoyed.
“There's no need for sarcasm.”
I shook my head.
“Did you call to apologize?”
A pause.
“No.”
“Then why are we talking?”
His voice hardened.
“I need those documents signed before Friday.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why Friday?”
“Because my attorney needs them.”
“Have your attorney contact mine.”
He went silent.
“Yours?”
“Yes.”
“Nia, don't waste money on lawyers.”
I almost smiled.
“Good night, Marcus.”
I ended the call.
Then I sat down on the sofa.
Friday.
He needed my signature before Friday.
Not because he wanted a clean divorce.
Because something financial was happening.
I called Danielle again.
“Marcus says the papers have to be signed before Friday.”
She became quiet.
Then she said, “That confirms something I've been concerned about.”
“What?”
“The lender has a review meeting scheduled for Monday.”
I sat upright.
“And?”
“Marcus may need to demonstrate that the property and business disputes have been resolved.”
My heartbeat quickened.
Danielle continued.
“If you sign the proposed waiver, he could attempt to present it as evidence that you have surrendered financial claims.”
I stared at the divorce envelope.
“So that's why he's rushing.”
“Possibly.”
I closed my eyes.
He hadn't even given me one day to grieve.
He wanted me to sign away everything before I understood what was happening.
Then Danielle said something that made my stomach drop.
“Nia, there's another name in the refinancing file.”
I swallowed.
“Whose?”
“Vanessa Reed.”
I stared at the wall.
Danielle continued.
“She's listed as a proposed recipient of part of the loan proceeds through a consulting company.”
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
My husband hadn't merely betrayed me emotionally.
He was apparently trying to use disputed family assets to finance a future with the woman carrying his child.
I looked down at the wedding ring still on my finger.
Then I slowly removed it.
May you like
And I made a promise.
I would not sign a single thing until I knew exactly what Marcus had done.
