Chapter 2
Vanessa's eyes moved from my face to the papers in my hand.
For the first time since I arrived, she had nothing clever to say.
Her friends slowly moved away from her.
I almost admired how quickly rich people could create distance when trouble appeared.
Marcus stepped beside me.
"Answer her."
Vanessa swallowed.
"I don't know what you think you have."
I held up the original list.
"This came directly from Cynthia's office."
Her jaw tightened.
Then I raised the second page.
"And this came from your email account."
That broke something in her expression.
Not guilt.
Calculation.
She was already deciding which lie to use.
"I was making adjustments."
"Without permission?"
"I'm on the host committee."
"No."
I kept my voice calm.
"You're a volunteer consultant."
Several nearby guests turned toward each other.
Vanessa noticed.
Her cheeks darkened with embarrassment.
"You asked me to help."
"I asked you to assist with sponsors."
"Exactly."
"Then why did you remove seventeen invited guests?"
She crossed her arms.
"They weren't important donors."
One of the women behind her gasped softly.
I looked down at the list.
"Dr. Monica Hayes donated fifty thousand dollars last year."
Vanessa shrugged.
"She wasn't bringing the right crowd."
"The right crowd?"
She realized too late how that sounded.
Marcus folded his arms.
"Keep going."
Vanessa glared at him.
"This doesn't involve you."
He almost laughed.
"I'm a principal sponsor."
I looked at the replacement names.
Most belonged to lifestyle influencers, luxury brokers, and socialites Vanessa regularly photographed herself with.
But several names had something beside them.
Numbers.
"Why are there dollar amounts next to these people?"
Vanessa immediately answered.
"Sponsorship pledges."
"Really?"
"Yes."
I looked toward Marcus.
He took out his phone.
"We called three of them."
Vanessa's breathing changed.
I continued.
"They weren't sponsorship pledges."
Nobody moved.
"They were payments."
A murmur spread through the entrance.
Vanessa shook her head.
"No."
"People paid you to get invitations."
"That's ridiculous."
"Is it?"
I held up another page.
"Fifteen thousand dollars from Damon Price."
Vanessa said nothing.
"Ten thousand from Alexis Grant."
Her eyes flicked toward the crowd.
"Twenty-five thousand from Raymond Ellis."
Marcus stepped closer.
"Should we keep going?"
Vanessa's voice dropped.
"You went through my private records?"
I almost smiled.
"So now they're your records?"
She realized the mistake.
"I didn't mean—"
"You just admitted they exist."
Her face tightened.
I had known Vanessa for almost seven years.
We met through mutual friends while I was still building my real-estate company.
Back then, she had been charming.
Ambitious.
Fun.
She knew everyone.
Or claimed to.
When my company started succeeding, Vanessa appeared more often.
Dinner invitations.
Launch parties.
Introductions.
She became particularly interested after I bought the mansion.
She called it the perfect social property.
I considered her a friend.
That mistake embarrassed me more than being stopped at my own door.
Vanessa looked around.
"We should discuss this privately."
I shook my head.
"You didn't humiliate me privately."
That landed.
She glanced toward Derrick.
"You should have verified her identity."
He looked stunned.
"You told me personally not to let her inside."
Vanessa's head snapped toward him.
"I said follow the list."
"No."
His voice grew firmer.
"You showed me her picture."
My stomach tightened.
Marcus looked at me.
I hadn't known that part.
"What picture?" I asked.
Derrick pulled out his phone.
Vanessa moved quickly.
"That's company property."
Marcus stepped between them.
"Don't."
Derrick opened a message.
Then he handed me the phone.
There I was.
A photograph taken outside my office two days earlier.
Below it was a message from Vanessa.
DO NOT LET THIS WOMAN ENTER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.
I stared at the screen.
This wasn't a clerical change.
It was targeted.
I looked at Vanessa.
"Why did you send him my photograph?"
She said nothing.
"Answer me."
Her lips pressed together.
Marcus looked toward the doors.
"Cynthia!"
A woman in an emerald dress hurried outside.
The moment she saw the scene, she stopped.
"Nia."
"You knew I was removed?"
Her eyes widened.
"What?"
I showed her the list.
Cynthia looked horrified.
"I didn't authorize this."
Vanessa interrupted.
"We changed it yesterday."
Cynthia turned.
"We?"
"You approved the revisions."
"No, I didn't."
Vanessa's face changed.
Cynthia continued.
"You sent me a revised list saying Nia had approved it."
My stomach dropped.
"She what?"
Cynthia pulled out her phone.
An email appeared.
From Vanessa.
NIa reviewed the final list personally. Please replace the previous version.
I looked at the signature line.
My name was beneath it.
Not typed.
Digitally signed.
I had never sent it.
Marcus stared at the screen.
"That's forged."
Vanessa laughed nervously.
"Don't be dramatic."
I looked at her.
"Did you forge my authorization?"
"No."
"Then who did?"
She didn't answer.
Cynthia kept scrolling.
"There were also instructions to redirect certain donations."
Vanessa went still.
Marcus heard it too.
"Redirect where?"
Cynthia looked confused.
"Vanessa said Nia created a VIP sponsor account."
I felt my pulse jump.
"What account?"
Cynthia's face drained of color.
I looked at Vanessa.
"What did you do?"
She backed away.
"It was temporary."
There it was.
The first crack.
Marcus stepped forward.
"How much?"
Vanessa said nothing.
"How much money did you redirect?"
"It wasn't stolen."
"How much?"
Her eyes filled with sudden anger.
"You don't understand."
I moved closer.
"Then make me understand."
She glanced around.
The guests.
Security.
Marcus.
Cynthia.
There was nowhere left to perform.
Finally, she whispered,
"About eighty thousand."
Cynthia covered her mouth.
Marcus cursed under his breath.
But something in Vanessa's answer bothered me.
"About?"
She looked away.
"Vanessa."
I opened the email again.
There were more than seventeen replacement names.
More numbers.
And if even half represented payments, eighty thousand made no sense.
"How much did you actually take?"
She reached for her purse.
Marcus noticed.
"Don't leave."
"I'm calling my lawyer."
"Do that."
She pulled out her phone.
Something white slipped from her clutch and landed on the marble.
A bank deposit receipt.
I bent down before she could grab it.
Vanessa froze.
The receipt was dated that morning.
Deposit amount:
$240,000.
Account holder:
Cole Luxury Events LLC.
I looked at her.
She stared back.
Marcus leaned over my shoulder.
His voice became very quiet.
"Vanessa."
She stepped backward.
"That's not what you think."
I turned the receipt over.
On the back was a handwritten note.
Final transfer after tonight.
Nia signs Monday.
My heart started pounding.
I looked up.
"What am I signing Monday?"
Vanessa's face told me she wished I had never seen that line.
Then Cynthia whispered behind me.
"Nia."
I turned.
She was staring at her tablet.
"What?"
"There is a property authorization scheduled for Monday."
"What property authorization?"
Her hands began shaking.
"To transfer management rights for this mansion."
I slowly looked back at Vanessa.
She wasn't just selling invitations.
May you like
Someone was preparing to take control of my property.
And according to the documents, I had already agreed.
