Chapter 3
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The refrigerator hummed behind me.
Somewhere upstairs, the washing machine completed its cycle.
Everything sounded painfully ordinary.
But my entire life had just shifted.
I stared at Jordan.
"What do you mean you owe forty thousand dollars?"
He rubbed his forehead.
"It's complicated."
I took a breath.
"Then explain it."
He looked toward Jasmine.
She stood motionless.
Her face was pale.
Jordan swallowed.
"I invested in a trading platform."
"What platform?"
He hesitated.
"NorthBridge Capital Exchange."
I had never heard of it.
I folded my arms.
"And?"
He stared at his phone.
"They gave me access to leveraged positions."
I felt my jaw tighten.
"Did you borrow money to invest?"
He shook his head.
"Not exactly."
I stepped closer.
"Jordan."
He exhaled sharply.
"Yes."
My stomach sank.
"How much?"
He looked down.
"Forty thousand."
Jasmine covered her mouth.
I turned toward her.
"You didn't know?"
She shook her head.
"Not all of it."
I stared at her.
A moment earlier, she had defended giving him the money.
Now she was pretending to be surprised.
I looked at Jordan.
"Who signed for the debt?"
He hesitated.
"Me."
"Did you use any collateral?"
He didn't answer.
My heart began pounding.
"Jordan, did you use anything from this house?"
His eyes widened.
"No."
I studied him.
He looked genuinely frightened.
Then he said, "I used the business account."
I frowned.
"What business account?"
He glanced at Jasmine.
I turned toward her.
"Jasmine?"
She sat down heavily.
I could see the truth forming before anyone spoke.
There had been a business.
Not a successful one.
Not even a legitimate one, perhaps.
But an account connected to something they hadn't told me.
"What business?" I asked again.
Jordan whispered, "J&J Ventures."
I stared at him.
"Who owns it?"
He swallowed.
"Me and Mom."
My chest tightened.
I looked at Jasmine.
She refused to meet my eyes.
"When did you start this company?"
"Six months ago."
I felt sick.
Six months.
Jasmine had been asking for additional money for groceries.
Household repairs.
Jordan's insurance.
Family expenses.
Meanwhile, she and Jordan had opened a business without telling me.
I looked at the bank statement.
"Did you put any of my money into it before the fifty thousand?"
Jasmine began crying.
"Marcus, please."
I closed my eyes.
That was answer enough.
I stepped away from the counter.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then Malik approached me.
"Dad?"
I looked at him.
His face was full of concern.
Not for himself.
For me.
That nearly broke me.
"I'm okay, son."
He didn't believe me.
Neither did I.
I turned toward Jasmine.
"How much have you taken from the household accounts?"
She shook her head.
"I wasn't stealing."
"How much?"
She stared at the floor.
I felt my voice grow colder.
"Jasmine, I can review the statements myself."
She whispered, "About seventy thousand."
My heart stopped.
"Seventy?"
She nodded.
I gripped the counter.
"Over what period?"
"Six months."
I stared at her.
Seventy thousand dollars.
And that was before the twenty-thousand-dollar handbag.
Before the thirty thousand from Malik's education fund.
I couldn't even calculate the total without more records.
My mind raced through the last six months.
The time Jasmine told me our property taxes had increased.
The expensive appliance she claimed needed replacing.
The emergency repairs she said the insurance company wouldn't cover.
Had any of it been true?
I looked at her.
"Did you lie about the roof repair?"
She began crying harder.
"Marcus."
"The roof repair."
She nodded.
My stomach twisted.
"There wasn't one?"
She shook her head.
I stared at the woman I had married.
The woman I had trusted with our home.
Our finances.
Our family.
I felt like I was looking at a stranger.
Jordan suddenly spoke.
"Don't blame Mom."
I turned.
He stood straighter.
"This was my idea."
I studied him.
For the first time, he wasn't hiding behind Jasmine.
He looked scared.
But he was talking.
"I told her I could turn the money into something bigger."
I stared at him.
"And when you lost?"
He looked down.
"I thought I could win it back."
My stomach sank.
There it was.
The same dangerous thinking that had destroyed countless families.
Losing money.
Borrowing more.
Trying to recover.
Digging deeper.
I took a slow breath.
"Do you understand what you've done?"
Jordan's eyes filled.
"Yes."
I shook my head.
"No. I don't think you do."
I pointed toward Malik.
"Your stepbrother was working nights to eat."
Jordan looked at him.
Malik said nothing.
I continued.
"Meanwhile, you were gambling with money that should have helped him finish school."
Jordan lowered his head.
Jasmine interrupted.
"Don't call it gambling."
I turned.
"What would you call it?"
She folded her arms.
"Investing."
I stared at her.
"Then explain why he's forty thousand dollars in debt."
She looked away.
I took a breath.
"Enough."
I picked up my phone.
"I'm contacting the bank."
Jasmine stood abruptly.
"Marcus, please don't."
I looked at her.
"Why?"
She hesitated.
Then whispered, "Because they'll freeze the accounts."
I nodded.
"Good."
Her eyes widened.
"We still need money for bills."
I stared at her.
"Then you should have thought about that before taking it."
I called the bank's fraud department.
Explained that I needed to review transfers and account access.
They told me what documentation would be required.
I also contacted my accountant.
He agreed to meet me the following morning.
Then I turned toward Jasmine and Jordan.
"You both need to stay somewhere else tonight."
Jasmine looked furious.
"This is my home too."
I nodded.
"You have legal rights. We'll handle that properly."
She blinked.
I continued.
"But I will not keep pretending this marriage is functioning."
Jordan looked toward the stairs.
"Where am I supposed to go?"
I stared at him.
"You're twenty-two."
He flinched.
I continued.
"You told Malik he needed to support himself."
Jasmine gasped.
"Marcus!"
I shook my head.
"No."
Then I looked at Jordan.
"I'm not going to abandon you in the street. But I'm also not paying for another luxury hotel or giving you more investment money."
He nodded slowly.
I offered to pay directly for a short stay at a modest extended-stay hotel while they arranged other housing.
Jasmine refused at first.
Then accepted.
By evening, their bags were packed.
I watched them walk toward the door.
Jasmine stopped.
Turned.
And looked at Malik.
"This is your fault."
My heart exploded.
"Don't you dare."
She stared at me.
I stepped between them.
"Don't put this on my son."
Her lips trembled.
"If he hadn't complained—"
I raised my voice.
"Stop."
The room fell silent.
I pointed toward the door.
"Leave."
She stared at me for a long moment.
Then walked out.
Jordan followed.
The door closed.
And suddenly, the house was quiet.
Malik stood beside me.
He looked exhausted.
"I'm sorry, Dad."
I turned.
"What?"
He swallowed.
"I didn't mean to break up your marriage."
My heart shattered.
I pulled him into my arms.
"Listen to me."
He started crying.
"You didn't break anything."
I held him tighter.
"The truth exposed what was already broken."
For a long time, we stood together in the hallway.
Then Malik whispered, "Dad, there's something else."
I pulled back.
His eyes were frightened.
"What?"
He reached into his hoodie pocket.
Then handed me a folded piece of paper.
It was a letter from his university.
A financial hold notice.
I stared at it.
My stomach tightened.
"Malik..."
He looked down.
"I didn't want to tell you."
I read the letter.
His training fees had not been paid.
His enrollment was at risk.
And unless the balance was resolved within five business days, he could lose his place in the program.
I looked at my son.
May you like
He was trying so hard not to cry.
And I realized the damage Jasmine had caused was still unfolding.
