Chapter 5
I spent the next morning in my attorney's office.
I hadn't slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Vanessa standing in her wedding gown.
I heard her laughter.
I remembered the way she had touched my face and promised to love me forever.
Then I remembered the forged documents.
The property transfer.
The power of attorney.
And Darius Mitchell.
Rochelle placed a thick folder on the table.
“Ethan, we need to move carefully.”
I nodded.
“Okay.”
She opened the first document.
“This is the power of attorney submitted in your name.”
I stared at it.
My name appeared at the top.
Ethan Carter.
The signature looked almost identical to mine.
But I knew I had never signed it.
I pointed toward the bottom.
“That's not mine.”
Rochelle nodded.
“We're obtaining the authentication records.”
She turned the page.
“The document attempted to give Vanessa authority over certain financial and property transactions.”
My stomach tightened.
“Could she have sold my company?”
“Not automatically. Corporate ownership and authority are more complicated. But the document could have caused serious problems if accepted without proper verification.”
I closed my eyes.
“Did anyone accept it?”
Rochelle hesitated.
“A financial institution began reviewing a transaction request.”
My heart pounded.
“What transaction?”
She showed me another page.
A transfer request involving one of my business investment accounts.
The amount was two million dollars.
I stared at the number.
“Two million?”
She nodded.
“The request was flagged before completion.”
I leaned back.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Vanessa had stood beside me for two years.
She had cooked dinner in my kitchen.
Celebrated birthdays with my parents.
Planned our future children.
And somewhere along the way, she had apparently helped someone attempt to steal millions.
I covered my face.
Rochelle waited.
Then she said, “Ethan, the most important thing is that the transfer didn't go through.”
I lowered my hands.
“Can we stop them?”
“We can protect the accounts, challenge the documents, and cooperate with investigators.”
I nodded.
“Then do it.”
She leaned forward.
“There's another issue.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Vanessa's involvement.”
I stared at her.
“She's guilty.”
Rochelle remained calm.
“That's for investigators and, if necessary, the courts to determine.”
I looked away.
“I heard her.”
“I understand.”
“She admitted Darius encouraged her to marry me.”
Rochelle nodded.
“That information matters. But we still need evidence showing what she knowingly did.”
I took a breath.
She was right.
Anger wouldn't win the case.
Evidence would.
That afternoon, my mother called.
“Ethan, baby, have you eaten?”
I almost laughed.
Even now, she was worried about food.
“Not yet.”
“Come home.”
I hesitated.
“Mom, I have work.”
She became firm.
“You have been working your whole life. You can take one afternoon.”
I smiled faintly.
“Okay.”
When I arrived, she had prepared fried chicken, collard greens, and cornbread.
My father sat at the kitchen table.
For a moment, the familiar smell made me feel like a child again.
I sat down.
My mother placed a plate in front of me.
“Eat.”
I obeyed.
For several minutes, nobody mentioned Vanessa.
Then my father asked, “How bad is it?”
I looked at him.
“Someone tried to transfer two million dollars.”
His face changed.
My mother covered her mouth.
“Ethan.”
I nodded.
“The bank flagged it.”
My father leaned back.
“Thank God.”
I stared at my plate.
Then I whispered, “I almost married her.”
My mother reached across the table.
I looked up.
“She sat here, Mom.”
My voice broke.
“She ate your food. She called you Mama.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“She hugged Dad after his surgery.”
My father looked down.
“And all that time, she might have been planning to use us.”
My mother squeezed my hand.
“Ethan, you didn't know.”
I began crying.
“I should have.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
I wiped my face.
“I ignored everybody.”
My father spoke quietly.
“Son, loving someone doesn't make you foolish.”
I looked at him.
“But refusing to see the truth after it appears can destroy you.”
I nodded.
He leaned forward.
“You saw the truth before the vows. That's what matters now.”
I swallowed.
Then my mother asked something unexpected.
“Do you still love her?”
I looked down.
For a long moment, I couldn't answer.
Then I whispered, “Yes.”
My mother's eyes filled with tears.
I laughed bitterly.
“That's the worst part.”
She squeezed my hand.
“I know.”
“I hate what she did.”
I wiped my face.
“But I still remember the woman I thought she was.”
My father nodded.
“Those feelings don't disappear overnight.”
I looked toward the window.
“I don't know how to stop loving somebody who tried to hurt me.”
My mother answered softly.
“You don't have to stop feeling something today. You just have to stop letting it control your decisions.”
Her words stayed with me.
That evening, I returned to my house.
The rooms felt empty.
Vanessa's belongings were still there.
Her shoes lined the closet.
Her perfume sat on the dresser.
Photographs of us covered the walls.
I stood in the bedroom doorway.
Then I noticed something.
A small black notebook rested inside her open suitcase.
I recognized it.
Vanessa used it to plan the wedding.
Guest lists.
Flower arrangements.
Seating charts.
I picked it up.
Then stopped.
I didn't want to violate her privacy.
But I also knew the notebook might contain information relevant to the ongoing investigation.
I called Rochelle.
She advised me to preserve it without altering the contents and let the proper investigators determine how it should be handled.
I placed it carefully inside a document box.
Then I turned toward the closet.
For the first time, I allowed myself to imagine life without Vanessa.
No wedding photographs.
No honeymoon.
No shared future.
Just me.
And the question of how I would begin again.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I hesitated.
Then answered.
“Hello?”
A familiar woman's voice spoke.
“Ethan.”
My heart stopped.
“Vanessa.”
She began crying.
“I need to talk to you.”
I closed my eyes.
“About what?”
“Darius.”
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?”
She whispered, “He's threatening me.”
I stood.
“Have you contacted the police?”
She hesitated.
“Not yet.”
“Then you need to.”
She began crying harder.
“Ethan, please.”
I looked toward the document box.
“What does he want?”
Her voice shook.
“He wants the rest of the paperwork.”
I felt cold.
“What paperwork?”
She swallowed.
“The documents from your office.”
My heart pounded.
“What documents?”
There was a long silence.
Then she whispered, “Ethan, I think he's been using your company for something much bigger.”
I stared at the wall.
“What do you mean?”
She began sobbing.
“I found records of transactions I don't understand.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
Then she said something that made my stomach drop.
“And your uncle Raymond's name is on them.”
I couldn't breathe.
May you like
Because the past my father had warned me about was suddenly standing directly in front of me.
And this time, I intended to find out the truth.
