Chapter 6
For the first time in my adult life, I understood what it meant to feel completely surrounded.
Every direction seemed dangerous.
My former fiancée had accessed confidential documents.
Her father was connected to suspicious payments.
My chief financial officer had entered our records room at night.
And my uncle had signed a false statement involving my father's land.
I sat in Rachel's office, staring at the financial report.
Four hundred thousand dollars.
My company's money.
Transferred to a consulting business connected to Richard Collins.
I looked at Rachel.
"How did they use my credentials?"
She folded her hands.
"We're investigating."
I rubbed my forehead.
"Harold had administrator-level access."
"Yes."
"Could he authorize transactions without me?"
"Under certain circumstances, he could prepare them. But the system records approvals under your account."
I stared at the screen.
"Someone logged in as me."
Rachel nodded.
"That's one possibility."
I closed my eyes.
I thought of every time I left my laptop unlocked.
Every time I handed Harold my tablet during meetings.
Every time I trusted someone because they had been loyal for years.
My father used to tell me that trust was valuable.
But he also believed responsibility required verification.
I had forgotten the second lesson.
"What do we do?" I asked.
Rachel leaned forward.
"We've notified the bank, preserved the records, and requested a formal review of the disputed transfers."
I nodded.
"And Harold?"
"He's been removed from financial access pending investigation."
"Good."
She continued.
"We're also working with outside counsel to assess potential civil and criminal claims."
I looked at her.
"Can we recover the money?"
"Possibly. But I won't promise a result before we have the facts."
I appreciated her honesty.
I had enough people telling me what I wanted to hear.
That evening, I returned to my mother's house.
She was preparing dinner.
The smell of baked chicken filled the kitchen.
For a moment, I felt like I was fifteen again.
Back then, my problems seemed enormous.
A failed test.
A broken friendship.
A girl who didn't like me.
Now I wished life were that simple.
Mom looked up.
"Baby, you look exhausted."
I smiled weakly.
"I am."
She pulled out a chair.
"Sit."
I obeyed.
She placed a plate in front of me.
I stared at the food.
Then suddenly, I began crying.
I hadn't expected it.
I had been holding everything inside for days.
But sitting in my mother's kitchen, I couldn't pretend anymore.
Mom immediately came around the table.
"Marcus?"
I covered my face.
"I'm so tired."
She wrapped her arms around me.
"I know, baby."
I shook my head.
"I thought Vanessa loved me."
Mom held me tighter.
"I know."
"I thought Raymond would always be there."
She rubbed my back.
"I know."
"And I trusted Harold with my company."
My voice broke.
"I feel like everybody I trusted had a knife behind their back."
Mom didn't rush to comfort me with easy words.
She simply held me.
For a long time, I cried against her shoulder.
Then she whispered, "Not everybody."
I looked up.
Her eyes were wet.
"Daniel is still here."
I nodded.
"Rachel is helping."
I nodded again.
"And I'm not going anywhere."
My tears returned.
She touched my face.
"Marcus, you don't have to be strong every minute."
I closed my eyes.
For years, I believed being successful meant handling every problem without showing weakness.
But my mother had never taught me that.
She taught me to work hard.
To be honest.
To ask for help when I needed it.
And to remember that love was supposed to make life safer, not more frightening.
I hugged her again.
"Thank you, Mom."
She kissed my forehead.
"Always."
The next morning, something unexpected happened.
Vanessa came to my office.
Claire, my executive assistant, called me from reception.
"Mr. Bennett, Vanessa Collins is here."
I closed my eyes.
"Did she make an appointment?"
"No."
I sighed.
"Tell her I'm unavailable."
Claire hesitated.
"Sir, she says it's urgent."
I considered refusing.
Then I asked, "Is she alone?"
"Yes."
I took a breath.
"Have her wait in the conference room. I'll bring Rachel onto the call."
Ten minutes later, I entered the room.
Vanessa stood near the window.
She looked different.
Her hair was pulled into a simple ponytail.
She wore jeans and a plain sweater.
There was no expensive jewelry.
No dramatic makeup.
And no arrogant smile.
When she saw me, her eyes filled.
"Marcus."
I remained near the door.
"What do you need?"
She swallowed.
"I came to tell you the truth."
I looked at her.
"About what?"
"Everything."
I studied her.
Rachel joined by video call.
Vanessa seemed surprised.
I explained that my attorney would be present for any discussion concerning disputed documents.
She nodded.
"Okay."
Then she sat down.
For several seconds, she stared at her hands.
Finally, she spoke.
"My father told me marrying you would secure our family's future."
I felt my chest tighten.
"What does that mean?"
She wiped her cheeks.
"He said your company was growing faster than ours."
I remained silent.
"He wanted a partnership."
"Through our marriage?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
I felt sick.
Vanessa continued.
"At first, I thought he meant our families would become close."
I stared at her.
"Then what?"
"He started asking questions about your ownership documents."
I nodded.
"Those documents you took from my office."
She lowered her head.
"Yes."
Rachel asked, "Did you understand you were accessing confidential company information?"
Vanessa hesitated.
"I knew Marcus hadn't given me permission."
My chest tightened.
For the first time, she wasn't trying to excuse it.
She continued.
"My father said it was harmless."
I shook my head.
"And you believed him?"
She looked at me.
"I wanted to."
I remained silent.
Vanessa began crying.
"My father has controlled my decisions for years."
I listened.
"He chose my college."
She wiped her cheeks.
"He chose where I worked."
Her voice broke.
"And when I met you, he decided you were the perfect husband."
I felt a strange mixture of anger and sadness.
"Did you ever love me?"
She looked directly at me.
"Yes."
I wanted to believe her.
But I couldn't ignore what she'd done.
"Then why humiliate my mother?"
Vanessa covered her face.
For several seconds, she cried.
Finally, she whispered, "Because she made me feel ashamed."
I stared at her.
"What?"
"Your mother was kind to me even when I treated her badly."
I frowned.
Vanessa continued.
"She never tried to impress anyone."
Her voice shook.
"She was comfortable being herself."
I remained silent.
"And I hated that."
I looked at her.
She wiped her face.
"I spent my whole life trying to look perfect."
She swallowed.
"When I saw her standing there in that simple dress, I thought she would make our wedding look cheap."
I felt anger rising again.
"She was there to celebrate us."
"I know."
"She loved you."
Vanessa broke down.
"I know."
I looked away.
For a moment, the room was silent.
Then she whispered, "I was cruel."
I nodded.
"Yes."
She took a breath.
"And I was wrong."
I studied her.
It was the first time I had heard her admit that without adding an excuse.
Then Rachel asked a question.
"Vanessa, why are you telling us this now?"
Her expression changed.
She looked frightened.
"Because my father wants to blame Marcus for the missing money."
My stomach dropped.
"What?"
She nodded.
"He says the transfers were authorized by Marcus."
I stared at her.
"That's a lie."
"I know."
She reached into her handbag.
Then removed a small envelope.
"My father keeps copies of important documents at home."
Rachel leaned forward on the screen.
"What is that?"
Vanessa placed the envelope on the table.
"I found this in his office."
I didn't touch it.
Rachel advised that it be preserved and transferred through an appropriate process.
Vanessa nodded.
Then she whispered, "There's an email inside."
My heart pounded.
"From who?"
"Harold."
I stared at her.
"What does it say?"
Vanessa swallowed.
"He told my father the money transfers were complete."
I felt cold.
Then she continued.
"And he said they needed to make sure Marcus took the blame before the auditors discovered anything."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
I looked at Vanessa.
She was crying again.
Then she said something that made my chest tighten.
"Marcus, my father isn't just trying to take your company."
I stared at her.
"What else does he want?"
May you like
She took a breath.
"He wants you arrested."
