Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Wanted My Son's Money
I never expected to spend my son's wedding night sitting in a lawyer's office.
But by eight o'clock, that was exactly where I was.
Nick sat beside me, still wearing his black tuxedo.
His bow tie hung loose around his neck.
The gold ring his father had left him rested in his palm.
He had barely spoken since we left the chapel.
Across the desk sat my attorney, Marcus Bennett.
Marcus had handled Samuel's estate after his death.
He was one of the few people who knew everything about the trust.
And when I explained what had happened, his expression became serious.
"Vanessa asked about the money before the box was opened?"
I nodded.
"Several times."
"And she knew there was a trust?"
"Yes."
Marcus turned toward Nick.
"Did you ever tell her?"
Nick shook his head.
"I didn't know it existed."
I looked down.
A familiar guilt settled in my stomach.
For years, I had protected the trust because Samuel asked me to.
But perhaps I should have told Nick sooner.
Marcus seemed to read my thoughts.
"Evelyn, the trust terms were established legally. You followed the instructions you were given."
Nick looked at me.
"Mom, I'm not angry."
I turned.
"Sweetheart—"
He took my hand.
"You raised me. You paid for my college. You helped me buy my first car. I never went without anything important."
His eyes filled.
"If Dad wanted me to have this later, I understand."
I started crying.
He pulled me into a hug.
For a moment, I felt like the mother of a little boy again.
Then Marcus cleared his throat.
"We need to discuss the bank inquiry."
I sat upright.
Three weeks earlier, someone had called the bank claiming to represent Nick.
They asked whether the trust could be transferred before his marriage.
The bank refused to provide information.
Then someone attempted to submit an authorization form.
The signature didn't match mine.
Marcus frowned.
"Did you keep the letter from the bank?"
I opened my purse.
"I brought everything."
He examined the documents.
Then he looked at Nick.
"Have you signed any financial authorizations recently?"
Nick hesitated.
"Vanessa asked me to sign some wedding paperwork."
My stomach tightened.
"What kind of paperwork?"
"Vendor contracts. Insurance forms. A few things for our joint accounts."
Marcus leaned forward.
"Did you read them?"
Nick looked ashamed.
"Not all of them."
I reached for his arm.
"Nick, don't blame yourself."
He shook his head.
"I trusted her."
Those words hung between us.
Marcus asked him to list every document he remembered.
Nick mentioned a packet Patricia had brought to their apartment.
He had signed several pages while Vanessa stood beside him.
"She said the forms were needed before the wedding."
Marcus's face hardened.
"We need copies."
Nick pulled out his phone.
"I might have photographs."
He searched his messages.
Then stopped.
"Here."
He showed Marcus a photograph of a signature page.
Marcus studied it.
His eyes narrowed.
"Nick, do you recognize this heading?"
Nick leaned closer.
"No."
I looked over his shoulder.
At the top of the page were the words:
"Limited Financial Power of Attorney."
My blood went cold.
Marcus spoke carefully.
"This document may have authorized someone to act on your behalf in certain financial matters."
Nick stared.
"Vanessa told me it was insurance paperwork."
Marcus continued examining the photograph.
"We need the complete document before reaching conclusions."
Nick looked sick.
"Why would she ask me to sign that?"
I knew what I feared.
But I didn't want to say it.
Not yet.
Marcus made several calls.
He advised Nick to revoke any financial authorizations that might have been granted, notify his bank, and place additional security measures on his accounts.
By the time we finished, it was almost midnight.
Nick looked exhausted.
"Mom, can I stay at your house?"
I stared at him.
"Of course."
He swallowed.
"I don't want to go back to the apartment."
I knew what he meant.
The apartment he had shared with Vanessa.
The place where they had chosen furniture.
Planned vacations.
Talked about children.
Every corner would remind him of the woman he had expected to marry.
I squeezed his hand.
"Come home, sweetheart."
When we arrived, I made tea.
Nick sat at the kitchen table.
The tuxedo jacket lay across a chair.
He looked down at his father's ring.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"Did Dad ever disappoint you?"
I was surprised.
"Of course."
Nick looked up.
"Really?"
I smiled sadly.
"Your father was a wonderful man, but he wasn't perfect."
"What did you do when he hurt you?"
"We talked. Sometimes we argued. Sometimes we needed space."
I sat across from him.
"But he never made me feel ashamed of the people I loved."
Nick stared at his hands.
"I thought Vanessa loved me."
My heart ached.
"I know."
"She used to be different."
I waited.
He continued.
"When we first met, she was kind. She brought you flowers. She helped me when I was sick."
I remembered.
Vanessa had seemed charming at first.
She always knew what to say.
She complimented my cooking.
Asked about my childhood.
Even brought me a beautiful scarf for Christmas.
Then, after they became engaged, things changed.
She criticized my clothes.
Complained about how often Nick visited.
Called my neighborhood embarrassing.
I had ignored the warning signs because I wanted my son to be happy.
Nick covered his face.
"How did I miss it?"
I moved beside him.
"Sometimes people show us who they are slowly."
He started crying.
I held him.
Not as a grown man who had made a mistake.
But as my child.
My only child.
The boy I had promised Samuel I would protect.
The next morning, Marcus called.
He had obtained preliminary information from the bank.
Someone had attempted to change the beneficiary instructions for a separate account connected to Samuel's estate.
The request had been denied.
But the attached document contained a signature.
Nick's signature.
Or something that looked like it.
Marcus asked Nick to come to his office immediately.
We arrived within an hour.
He placed the document on the desk.
Nick stared at it.
"That's not my signature."
Marcus nodded.
"I suspected as much."
I felt a cold wave pass through me.
The form listed Vanessa as the intended recipient of funds.
And beside her name was another signature.
Patricia's.
Nick looked at me.
His face had gone pale.
"Mom, they weren't just trying to control the wedding."
I swallowed.
He continued.
"They were trying to take Dad's money."
Then Marcus turned another page.
"There is something else."
He pointed to a date.
The first financial inquiry had been made six months earlier.
Long before the wedding.
Long before Vanessa claimed she was overwhelmed by stress.
Nick stared at the date.
Then whispered:
"That's the week she asked me to marry her."
I looked at my son.
May you like
And I knew the next truth would hurt him even more.
Because Vanessa might not have wanted to marry Nick for love at all.
