Chapter 4
I stared at Daniel Carter.
For several seconds, I thought I had misheard him.
“My family's trust?”
He nodded.
I shook my head.
“No.”
Daniel looked confused.
“Nia said you'd already discussed it.”
“We haven't.”
He leaned backward.
“She told me you wanted Amara financially protected.”
I stared at him.
“I didn't even know Amara existed.”
The truth hung between us.
Daniel looked down.
For the first time, I saw anger in his face.
Not the loud anger of a man looking for a fight.
Something quieter.
More painful.
The anger of a father realizing his child had been placed inside a lie.
“I need to understand something,” I said.
He nodded.
“Go ahead.”
“Why did Nia want you to give up primary custody?”
Daniel sighed.
“She said she wanted to rebuild her relationship with Amara.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
“It would be, if she'd been consistently involved.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
He looked toward the hallway.
“Nia visits Amara twice a month.”
My stomach tightened.
“Twice?”
“Sometimes less.”
I stared at him.
He continued.
“She sends gifts. Calls on birthdays. But she hasn't been a regular part of our daughter's daily life.”
I felt sick.
Nia had told me she spent most weekends helping her aunt.
She sometimes traveled for work.
I never questioned it.
I believed her.
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
“Last month, she suddenly wanted more time with Amara.”
I listened.
“She started talking about changing custody arrangements.”
“Why?”
“She said she was ready to become a full-time mother.”
I looked toward the hallway.
“That should be good news.”
Daniel nodded.
“That's what I thought.”
Then his expression darkened.
“But she kept asking about your family finances.”
My heartbeat quickened.
“What did she ask?”
“Whether your father left you property.”
I swallowed.
“And?”
“Whether you planned to establish a college fund for Amara.”
I stared at him.
Daniel continued.
“She said you wanted to make up for the years Amara had spent without a father figure.”
I almost laughed.
Without a father figure?
Amara was sitting twenty feet away with the man who had raised her.
A man who looked exhausted because he was trying to protect his daughter.
I shook my head.
“That makes no sense.”
Daniel nodded.
“I know.”
He reached for the custody document.
“That's why I didn't sign anything.”
I looked at him.
“You refused?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He gave me a sad smile.
“Because Amara isn't a business transaction.”
The words struck me deeply.
I looked at the document.
Then at Daniel.
And I realized something.
He wasn't my enemy.
He was another person Nia had deceived.
We sat in silence.
Then I asked, “Did Nia ever tell you why your marriage ended?”
Daniel looked surprised.
“Did she tell you?”
“She said she'd never been married.”
He closed his eyes.
“Right.”
For a moment, he seemed unable to speak.
Then he said, “We divorced because she kept lying about money.”
My stomach tightened.
“What kind of lies?”
“She opened credit accounts without telling me.”
I stared at him.
“She borrowed money.”
He nodded.
“She said it was for a business.”
“What business?”
“A beauty products company.”
I remembered.
Nia had told me she once tried to launch a cosmetics brand.
She described it as a small venture that failed because the market was competitive.
She never mentioned debt.
Daniel continued.
“She used our joint savings to pay investors back.”
My chest tightened.
“How much?”
“Almost eighty thousand dollars.”
I stared at him.
He looked down.
“When I found out, she promised to stop.”
“Did she?”
“No.”
His voice broke.
“I found another loan six months later.”
I felt sick.
Daniel rubbed his face.
“I wanted to save our marriage.”
I nodded slowly.
“But after Amara was born, I realized I couldn't keep bringing financial chaos into our daughter's life.”
He looked toward the hallway.
“I filed for divorce.”
I sat quietly.
For three years, Nia had described herself as financially responsible.
She had encouraged me to invest more aggressively.
She had asked questions about my property.
And now I learned she had a history of hiding debts.
I reached into my jacket.
Then slowly removed the velvet ring box.
Daniel stared at it.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he whispered, “You were going to propose?”
I nodded.
“Tonight.”
He closed his eyes.
“I'm sorry, man.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Me too.”
I placed the box on the table.
I had pictured this night so differently.
Nia smiling.
Tears of happiness.
A ring sliding onto her finger.
Our future beginning.
Instead, I was sitting with her former husband, discussing custody papers and hidden debts.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from Tasha.
Marcus, I spoke to Dad's attorney. Call me immediately.
I excused myself and stepped into the hallway.
Tasha answered on the first ring.
“Marcus, are you sitting down?”
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?”
She took a breath.
“Dad's attorney checked recent requests for information.”
“And?”
“Someone contacted his office pretending to be your fiancée.”
I froze.
“What?”
Tasha continued.
“She asked for copies of trust-related documents.”
My hands began shaking.
“Did they send anything?”
“No. The office refused because she wasn't authorized.”
I exhaled.
Then Tasha said something worse.
“She also asked how soon a spouse could become a beneficiary.”
I stared toward the restaurant.
My girlfriend.
The woman I had planned to marry.
Had apparently been trying to learn how to access my family's wealth before I had even proposed.
I closed my eyes.
“Tasha, please send me the attorney's contact information.”
She hesitated.
“Marcus, are you okay?”
I looked through the doorway.
Nia stood beside Amara.
She was wiping the little girl's tears.
For one moment, she looked like a loving mother.
Then I remembered everything else.
May you like
“I don't know,” I whispered.
“But I think I almost made the biggest mistake of my life.”
