Chapter 4 - The Father My Wife Kept Hidden
I stared at Jasmine across the kitchen island.
"Anthony Brooks is your father?"
She nodded.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
I felt as though the floor had shifted beneath my feet.
For six years, Jasmine told me her father left when she was little.
She said Patricia raised her and Kevin alone.
She spoke about abandoned birthdays.
Missing school events.
The pain of growing up without a father.
I had listened.
Comforted her.
Promised she would never have to face those feelings alone again.
And now I was discovering that the man she described as a stranger had been working inside my company.
Handling my finances.
Sitting in meetings with me.
Shaking my hand.
Coming to my house.
I swallowed.
"How long have you known?"
Jasmine wiped her eyes.
"Since I was eighteen."
I stared at her.
"Seventeen years?"
She nodded.
"And you never told me?"
"I was afraid."
"Of what?"
She began crying harder.
"Of losing you."
I felt anger rise.
"Jasmine, I wouldn't have rejected you because of your father."
"I know that now."
I shook my head.
"No. You knew what kind of man I was when we married."
She looked down.
I continued.
"Why did you let me hire him?"
Her face changed.
I noticed immediately.
"Jasmine."
She took a shaky breath.
"Mom asked me to recommend him."
I closed my eyes.
Anthony hadn't simply impressed me during an interview.
He had been introduced through a staffing referral Jasmine encouraged me to review.
At the time, she said a family friend knew someone with excellent financial experience.
I remembered.
I remembered thanking her.
I remembered telling her I appreciated her interest in my business.
My stomach twisted.
"Your mother arranged for your father to work for me."
Jasmine whispered, "Yes."
"Why?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know."
I stared at her.
"Don't tell me that."
Her voice broke.
"I thought he wanted to reconnect with us."
I took a slow breath.
"Reconnect by hiding who he was?"
She covered her face.
"Robert, please."
I stepped away.
I needed distance.
Not because I wanted to abandon her.
Because I was afraid my anger would overwhelm my ability to think clearly.
I walked to the window.
Outside, our garden looked peaceful.
The same garden where Jasmine and I celebrated our fifth anniversary.
The same place where we talked about having children.
The same place where I promised her that honesty would always matter in our marriage.
I turned back.
"Did Anthony ask you to hide our relationship?"
She nodded.
"Mom said it would be better if you didn't know."
"Why?"
"She said you might refuse to hire him because of what happened when I was little."
I stared at her.
"What happened?"
Jasmine hesitated.
Then whispered, "He stole money from my mother."
My chest tightened.
"How much?"
"Almost everything she had saved."
I felt sick.
"And you recommended him to handle my company's finances?"
She started crying again.
"I thought he had changed."
I closed my eyes.
That sentence.
I thought he had changed.
I had heard it from employees defending dishonest coworkers.
From clients explaining disastrous partnerships.
From friends who had ignored obvious warning signs.
But hearing it from my wife hurt differently.
"Did your mother know what happened at my company?"
"Yes."
"And she kept working with him?"
Jasmine nodded.
"She said he was trying to repay her."
I stared at her.
"By using money from my accounts?"
She looked away.
I felt my stomach drop.
"Jasmine, did your mother know Anthony was moving money through Walker Family Consulting?"
She hesitated.
"She said it was temporary."
My heart sank.
Temporary.
Again.
Every questionable decision seemed to become acceptable if someone promised it wouldn't last.
I took a breath.
"I need you to tell me everything."
She nodded.
But before she could speak, my phone rang.
Daniel Price.
I answered immediately.
"Robert, we have an update."
I looked toward Jasmine.
"What is it?"
"The lender confirmed the loan was not funded. Their fraud department has preserved the application."
Relief washed through me.
"Thank God."
"But there's more."
My stomach tightened again.
"Go on."
"They identified the broker who submitted the documents."
"Anthony?"
"Not directly. A man named Leonard Price."
I frowned.
"I don't know him."
"He's associated with several financing companies. We're investigating his role."
I rubbed my forehead.
Daniel continued.
"Robert, the lender also received a letter claiming you were experiencing financial problems and needed emergency liquidity."
I froze.
"What?"
"The letter appears to have been submitted by someone identifying herself as your wife."
I slowly turned toward Jasmine.
She stared at me.
Her face went white.
"Daniel, I'll call you back."
I ended the call.
Then placed my phone on the counter.
"Jasmine."
She began shaking her head.
"Robert, listen."
"Did you send a letter to the lender?"
She covered her mouth.
"Mom wrote it."
I stared at her.
"Did you sign it?"
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"Yes."
I felt something inside me collapse.
My wife had told a financial institution that I was struggling.
That my business was in trouble.
That I needed emergency funding.
All without my knowledge.
I sat down.
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Jasmine approached.
"Robert, I didn't think it would hurt you."
I looked up.
"You signed a false financial statement about me."
She began crying harder.
"Mom said it was just to help with approval."
"Approval for a loan I never requested."
She nodded.
I stared at the kitchen wall.
I had spent years building my reputation.
My clients trusted me.
Banks trusted my company.
Employees depended on my decisions.
And my own wife had helped create a false record suggesting I was financially desperate.
"Why?" I whispered.
She stepped closer.
"Because Mom said Anthony had an investor ready."
I looked at her.
"What investor?"
"A man who wanted to fund a senior living development."
"Then why did they need our house?"
She hesitated.
"Because the investor wanted security."
I shook my head.
"That doesn't make sense."
"I know."
"Jasmine, what exactly were they building?"
She swallowed.
"A retirement community."
"Where?"
She looked down.
"South Georgia."
"Which property?"
Silence.
My pulse quickened.
"Jasmine?"
She began crying again.
"There wasn't a property."
I stared at her.
"What?"
"Mom said they were still looking."
I felt sick.
Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
A loan against our home.
A supposed investment.
And no property.
No confirmed investor.
No legitimate development agreement.
I looked at my wife.
"That wasn't a business plan."
She shook her head.
"It was supposed to become one."
"No."
My voice was quiet.
"It was a way to get money."
Jasmine sank onto a chair.
I watched her cry.
Part of me wanted to comfort her.
Another part wanted to scream.
But I knew neither would solve the problem.
I took a breath.
"Jasmine, I'm going to stay somewhere else for a few days."
Her head snapped up.
"What?"
"I need space to think."
She stood quickly.
"Robert, please don't leave me."
I looked at her.
"I'm not making a final decision about our marriage tonight."
She began sobbing.
"Then why are you packing?"
"Because I need to be able to think without another argument."
I walked toward the bedroom.
She followed me.
"Please, Robert."
I stopped.
"Jasmine, I love you."
Her face crumpled.
"But I don't know whether I can trust you."
She covered her mouth.
I continued.
"And until we address that honestly, pretending everything is normal would be another lie."
I packed a few clothes.
Then returned to the kitchen.
My black travel bag was still on the table.
I lifted it.
Jasmine stood beside the island, crying silently.
I looked at her.
"Tomorrow, we're going to speak with our attorneys and investigators."
She nodded.
"And you're going to tell them everything you know."
Her voice was barely audible.
"Okay."
I moved toward the door.
Then she whispered something that made me stop.
"Robert, there's one more thing."
I turned.
Her face was pale.
"What?"
She took a shaky breath.
"Anthony didn't just come back because he wanted money."
I stared at her.
"What do you mean?"
She looked down.
"He said your company owed him something."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
Jasmine began crying again.
"Because he claims your father stole a business opportunity from him twenty years ago."
I froze.
My father.
The man who died before I finished college.
The man whose illness nearly destroyed our family.
I stared at Jasmine.
May you like
And suddenly, this wasn't only about the money.
Someone had dragged my dead father's name into a scheme against me.
