Chapter 5
I barely slept that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the chocolate fountain falling.
Then Vanessa's smile.
Then the bank balance.
Nine thousand dollars.
That was what remained of the future Isaiah and I had spent two years building.
At six in the morning, I sat on the edge of my bed staring at my engagement ring.
Isaiah had stayed with me at my apartment.
He was asleep on the couch.
I couldn't lie beside him.
Not because I didn't love him.
Because I didn't know how to feel safe.
His sister had betrayed me.
His mother had hidden her history.
And he had trusted Vanessa with our savings without discussing it with me.
I heard movement behind me.
"Nia?"
Isaiah stood in the doorway.
His shirt was wrinkled.
His eyes were tired.
"Did you sleep?"
I shook my head.
He approached carefully.
"Can we talk?"
I nodded.
He sat beside me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he said something I wasn't expecting.
"I failed you."
I looked at him.
"Isaiah..."
"No. I did."
He stared at his hands.
"I knew Vanessa could be cruel. I watched her make comments about your family. I kept telling you to ignore her."
I felt tears gathering.
"And when you said she was making you uncomfortable, I defended her."
"Yes," I whispered.
He nodded.
"I thought keeping peace in the family was the right thing."
He looked into my eyes.
"But I was asking you to carry the pain so I wouldn't have to confront my sister."
I started crying.
Because those were the words I had needed to hear for months.
He reached for my hand.
I let him hold it.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"I love you. But I understand if you need time."
I wiped my cheeks.
"I do."
He nodded.
"I'll give you whatever time you need."
Then he stood.
"I'm going to make coffee."
I watched him leave.
Part of me wanted to run after him.
Another part knew I needed to think clearly.
Love wasn't enough if I couldn't trust the person standing beside me.
At nine, we met Evelyn and Jasmine at a downtown law office.
Evelyn had arranged an appointment with an attorney named Patricia Brooks.
Patricia was direct.
She listened to everything without interrupting.
Then she placed her pen on the table.
"First, you need to preserve every piece of evidence."
She looked at me.
"The video. The messages. The bank records. The forged authorization. All of it."
I nodded.
"Second, report the suspected theft and forgery."
Isaiah leaned forward.
"We're prepared to do that."
"Good."
Patricia studied the account records.
"These payments were structured to look like normal wedding expenses."
She pointed at one transaction.
"Whoever planned this knew exactly how to avoid immediate suspicion."
My stomach tightened.
"Can we get the money back?"
"Possibly. But I won't promise something before we know where it went."
I appreciated that.
For the first time since last night, someone wasn't giving me empty reassurance.
Patricia continued.
"I also recommend that you separate all future wedding expenses from any account Vanessa can access."
Isaiah nodded.
"Already started."
Then Patricia asked a question that made me freeze.
"Has Vanessa ever had access to your identification documents?"
I looked up.
"Why?"
"The signature on this authorization appears to have been copied."
I thought back.
Three months earlier, Vanessa had offered to help prepare the marriage license paperwork.
She had asked for copies of our identification.
And I had sent them.
My stomach dropped.
"She has my driver's license information."
Patricia's expression sharpened.
"Tell the investigator."
I pressed my hands against my knees.
How much had I trusted her?
How much had I given her without thinking?
After the meeting, we went directly to the police station.
An investigator named Detective Harris listened to our account.
She reviewed the video.
Then the financial records.
She didn't promise an arrest.
But she took the allegations seriously.
She asked us to forward the original evidence securely and explained that subpoenas and bank records would help establish where the money went.
When we left, I felt exhausted.
But something had changed.
For the first time, we were taking action.
Then my phone rang.
My mother.
"Baby?"
Her voice was shaking.
"Mom, what's wrong?"
"Someone came to my house."
I stood still.
"What?"
"A man."
I looked at Isaiah.
My mother continued.
"He said he needed to speak to you about your wedding."
Fear crawled up my spine.
"What did he look like?"
"Tall. Gray suit. Maybe forty years old."
My heart stopped.
"Did he give you a name?"
"Daniel."
I grabbed Isaiah's arm.
"Mom, where is he now?"
"He left when I told him you don't live here."
"What did he want?"
My mother hesitated.
Then she said something that made my blood run cold.
"He told me you should stop asking questions about your fiancé's sister."
I couldn't breathe.
"Mom, lock your doors."
"Nia..."
"Please. Right now."
She promised she would.
I immediately called Detective Harris and reported the visit.
She told us to document everything and have my mother contact police if the man returned.
Isaiah was already reaching for his car keys.
"We're going to your mother's house."
I nodded.
But before we could leave, another message arrived.
The unknown number again.
"Daniel visited your mother because Vanessa gave him her address."
My hands started shaking.
I typed quickly.
"How do you know?"
The reply came seconds later.
"Because I used to work for him."
I stared at the screen.
"Who are you?"
This time, the answer came.
"My name is Rachel. I handled Sterling's payments. I helped move your money before I knew whose account it was."
I sat down.
Rachel sent another message.
"I have copies of records Vanessa and Daniel think were destroyed."
My breath caught.
Then one final message appeared.
"But you need to understand something. The wedding account wasn't their only target."
I looked at Isaiah.
He read the message over my shoulder.
May you like
Neither of us spoke.
Because whatever Vanessa and Daniel had planned, it was much bigger than a ruined engagement party.
