Chapter 7
I read the message three times.
My first instinct was to hide it from Marcus.
He had already suffered enough that evening, and I did not want to add another fear to the pile of questions he was carrying.
But I had promised myself that I would stop protecting people from the truth when that protection put someone else at risk.
I showed him the message.
His face hardened.
“Who sent this?”
“I don't know.”
“Derek?”
“Possibly. We shouldn't assume.”
Marcus immediately called Daniel.
Within minutes, my attorney advised us to preserve the message, avoid responding, and report the threat to the appropriate authorities.
He also arranged for the security team at my house to be notified.
I was grateful for his calmness.
Fear could make even sensible people act recklessly. I had no intention of allowing an anonymous message to dictate our next move.
When we reached home, Marcus carried my handbag inside and checked the locks.
Then he stood in the living room, looking at the photographs on the mantel.
There was one of him as a child, sitting beside his father on the dock at our lake house.
He picked it up.
“Do you remember that summer?”
“Of course.”
“Dad taught me how to fish. I complained the whole time because I wanted to go swimming.”
I smiled sadly.
“Your father told me you were the most impatient fisherman he'd ever met.”
Marcus laughed once, but the sound quickly faded.
“He would hate what's happening.”
I sat beside him.
“Your father believed that people should be held responsible for their choices. He also believed that a person should be given the opportunity to make better ones.”
“Do you think Vanessa can change?”
“I don't know.”
He looked at the photograph.
“I keep thinking about all the times she asked me whether you had updated your will. I told her it was none of our business, but I never imagined she might be planning something.”
“You trusted your wife. That was not a crime.”
“But I ignored the warning signs.”
“You can learn from them without blaming yourself for her decisions.”
He leaned forward, covering his face with his hands.
“I don't know whether I love her anymore.”
I let him sit with that thought.
Love was not a switch that could be turned off because someone had done something terrible. But neither was it a chain that required a person to remain in a damaging relationship.
“You don't have to decide tonight,” I told him.
The following morning, Daniel called.
He had received confirmation that the investigators were examining the financial requests and the threat against me. He also had information about Derek Whitmore.
Derek had previously been involved in several disputed investment schemes. Some clients had reported substantial losses, though the details of Vanessa's dealings with him still needed independent verification.
Daniel warned us not to contact him directly.
Marcus paced across my kitchen.
“If this man manipulated my wife, I want him held accountable.”
“Then let the investigators do their work,” I said.
“I also want to know whether she knew he was dishonest.”
“That is a question she must answer honestly.”
Later that afternoon, Vanessa called.
Marcus stared at the phone before answering.
“What do you want?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“Derek.”
Marcus looked at me.
“Put me on speaker,” I whispered.
He did.
Vanessa sounded exhausted.
“He called me last night. He said if I didn't get him the money, he would send information to the police and tell them I was the one who planned everything.”
“Did you plan everything?” Marcus asked.
“I planned to get the money. I didn't know what Derek intended to do with it.”
“That distinction matters, Vanessa, but it doesn't erase what you did.”
“I know.”
Her voice broke.
For the first time, she did not immediately defend herself.
“I have contacted a lawyer. I'm going to cooperate with the investigation.”
“Good.”
“Marcus, I need you to believe that I never wanted your mother to lose her home.”
He was silent for several seconds.
“I don't know what I believe anymore.”
“I understand.”
That answer surprised both of us.
Vanessa continued.
“I am sorry for what I did at the party. I was angry, jealous, and ashamed. I wanted to hurt your mother because I couldn't stand looking at what my own choices had done to me.”
I closed my eyes.
It was the first apology she had offered without attaching a demand to it.
Marcus's voice remained guarded.
“An apology doesn't repair trust.”
“I know.”
“Then stop asking me to trust you before you've earned it.”
“I will.”
After the call ended, Marcus sat down.
“She sounded different.”
“Perhaps she is beginning to understand the consequences.”
“Do you think I should forgive her?”
“Forgiveness is yours to choose. Reconciliation requires more than forgiveness.”
That evening, Daniel called again.
The investigators had identified a connection between Derek and an individual who had attempted to obtain information about my investment accounts.
The evidence was still being reviewed, but it suggested that Vanessa might not have been the only person interested in my assets.
Marcus stared at me.
“Who else knows about our family finances?”
I thought about our business, our properties, and the people who had worked alongside my husband for decades.
Then I remembered a name.
“Someone who attended our family dinners for years,” I said.
Marcus frowned.
“Who?”
May you like
I took a breath.
“Your uncle's former business partner.”
