Chapter 4
I drove to Maya's house with Rebecca beside me.
I had never felt so angry.
Not when my first business failed.
Not when my former wife and I divorced.
Not even when my father died unexpectedly.
This was different.
My daughter had been betrayed by people I had brought into her life.
And I had ignored warning signs because I wanted my second marriage to succeed.
When we reached Buckhead, Maya opened the door.
She looked exhausted.
Jasmine stood beside her.
“Dad.”
I pulled Maya into my arms.
She hugged me tightly.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered, “Am I losing Grandma's house?”
I held her face between my hands.
“No.”
Her eyes filled.
“Promise?”
I swallowed.
“I promise I'll do everything legally possible to protect it.”
Rebecca stepped forward.
“Maya, we're challenging the deed immediately.”
Maya looked frightened.
“But I didn't sign anything.”
“We believe the signature was forged.”
Jasmine covered her mouth.
“Oh my God.”
I followed them into the living room.
The house looked exactly as my mother had intended.
Family photographs lined the shelves.
A quilt she had made rested over the sofa.
Her favorite roses bloomed outside the windows.
Every corner carried a memory.
And someone had tried to turn those memories into a business transaction.
Maya sat beside me.
“Dad, I need to tell you something.”
I looked at her.
“What is it?”
“Steven called me yesterday.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did he say?”
“He apologized for getting angry.”
I stared at her.
“Then?”
“He said Felicia wanted me to come over for dinner.”
“Did you agree?”
“No.”
She looked down.
“He sounded strange.”
“How?”
“He kept asking whether I was going out this week.”
Rebecca became very still.
“Did he ask about your schedule?”
Maya nodded.
“Yes.”
I felt cold.
Someone might have wanted to know when the house would be empty.
I looked toward Jasmine.
“Have either of you noticed anything missing?”
Jasmine shook her head.
Maya hesitated.
“Actually, yes.”
My heart pounded.
“What?”
“The small lockbox Grandma gave me.”
I stood.
“Where was it?”
“In my bedroom closet.”
“When did you last see it?”
“Last week.”
I looked at Rebecca.
She frowned.
“What was inside?”
Maya took a breath.
“Grandma's letters. Some jewelry. And the original ownership documents.”
I felt as though the floor had disappeared beneath me.
“Did Steven ever have access to the house?”
Maya nodded.
“He used to have an emergency key.”
I closed my eyes.
After my mother's death, I had allowed Steven to help Maya move furniture.
He had been there many times.
We had all trusted him.
Maya looked at me.
“Dad, I changed the locks after he came over last Thursday.”
I nodded.
“Good.”
Her eyes filled.
“Do you think he took it?”
I wanted to say no.
But I couldn't lie.
“I don't know.”
Rebecca asked Maya to list every missing item.
Then she recommended that we report the suspected theft and preserve any available security footage.
Jasmine remembered that the doorbell camera saved recordings.
She opened the application.
We searched the previous week.
Then Maya stopped.
“There.”
The recording showed Steven approaching the house three days earlier.
He looked around.
Then reached into his pocket.
He pulled out a key.
I felt my stomach twist.
He tried the front door.
It didn't open.
He tried again.
Then he stepped back.
A few seconds later, he made a phone call.
The recording captured his voice.
“She changed the locks.”
A pause.
Then he said, “I told you she'd make this difficult.”
My hands tightened.
He listened again.
Finally, he muttered, “Fine. I'll find another way.”
The recording ended.
Maya covered her face.
“He really tried to get inside.”
I put my arm around her.
Rebecca saved a copy of the footage for the investigators.
Then she looked at Maya.
“Do you remember giving Steven access to your lockbox?”
Maya shook her head.
“No.”
“Could anyone else have opened it?”
“Maybe Felicia.”
I turned sharply.
“What?”
Maya looked uncomfortable.
“Last month, Felicia came over while Jasmine and I were cleaning.”
My heart pounded.
“She said she wanted to borrow Grandma's necklace for a charity dinner.”
I stared at her.
“Did you let her?”
“No. Grandma left it to me.”
“Then what happened?”
Maya swallowed.
“She got angry.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course she had.
“She said I was selfish,” Maya continued. “Then she asked where I kept the jewelry.”
Rebecca looked at me.
I knew what she was thinking.
The missing lockbox.
The forged deed.
The copied identification.
The emergency key.
These weren't isolated incidents.
Someone had been planning this.
My phone rang.
It was Steven.
I stepped into the hallway.
“What?”
His voice was shaking.
“Marcus, I need to talk to you.”
“Then talk.”
“Victor knows you found out.”
I gripped the phone.
“How?”
“Mom told him.”
I closed my eyes.
“Of course she did.”
“He's furious.”
“Steven, you need to cooperate with the investigators.”
“I know.”
“Then stop hiding things.”
A long silence followed.
Then he whispered, “There's something I haven't told you.”
I leaned against the wall.
“What?”
“Victor has pictures.”
“Of what?”
“Your family.”
My blood went cold.
“What kind of pictures?”
“He showed me photos of Maya leaving work. Angela's old house. Your office.”
I stared at the wall.
“Why?”
“He said he needed to know who might interfere.”
I took a slow breath.
“Steven, where are you?”
“At a gas station.”
“Which one?”
He gave me the address.
I immediately sent it to Rebecca and contacted the detective handling the case.
“Stay somewhere public,” I told him.
He began crying.
“I'm sorry.”
I didn't answer.
He continued.
“I thought I could become successful without needing you.”
“Then why did you try to take what belongs to us?”
His voice broke.
“Because I was ashamed to admit I'd failed.”
I felt a painful mixture of anger and sadness.
“Steven, failure doesn't make someone worthless.”
He sobbed.
“But what you do after failing matters.”
He remained silent.
I continued.
“You need to tell the police everything. No more lies.”
“Okay.”
Then I heard a car door slam near him.
Steven stopped speaking.
“Steven?”
His breathing quickened.
“Oh, no.”
“What?”
“He's here.”
My heart pounded.
“Who?”
“Victor.”
I heard footsteps.
A man's voice said something I couldn't understand.
Steven whispered, “Please don't hurt me.”
Then the line disconnected.
I stared at my phone.
My hands were shaking.
I called the police immediately.
But as I gave the dispatcher the gas station address, a new message appeared.
It came from Steven's number.
“Tell Maya to sign, or your family will regret making this difficult.”
I looked back toward the living room.
Maya was sitting beneath a photograph of her grandmother.
She was smiling at something Jasmine had said.
For one precious second, she looked like the little girl I remembered.
May you like
Then I looked down at the threat.
And I understood that protecting her would require more than stopping a fraudulent property transfer.
