Chapter 7
Monica sat across from me crying.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to demand why she had betrayed me.
But I remembered Raymond's words.
Don't let anger destroy you.
I took a breath.
“Monica, tell me exactly what happened.”
She wiped her face.
“Vanessa asked me to help.”
“When?”
“About six months ago.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she wanted to surprise you with a business investment.”
I stared at her.
“And you believed her?”
Monica nodded.
“She told me you were planning to buy a property together.”
I felt sick.
“Then why did Darius need my signature files?”
She lowered her eyes.
“He said they were needed for preliminary paperwork.”
I leaned forward.
“Monica, you know how our authorization system works.”
She nodded through tears.
“I'm sorry.”
“You know nobody should use my signature without my approval.”
“I know.”
I stared at her.
“Then why did you give him access?”
She began crying harder.
“I needed money.”
My chest tightened.
“What money?”
She looked ashamed.
“My son had medical bills.”
I stopped.
Monica had a twelve-year-old son named Elijah.
He had undergone surgery the previous year.
I knew the family had struggled financially.
I had personally approved additional paid leave for Monica.
But I hadn't known the bills remained overwhelming.
“How much did Darius pay you?” I asked.
She whispered, “Twenty thousand dollars.”
I closed my eyes.
Twenty thousand.
For access to files that could have cost my company millions.
I looked at her.
“Did you know he planned to forge documents?”
She shook her head.
“Not at first.”
I froze.
“At first?”
She began trembling.
“Later, I started asking questions.”
“What happened?”
“He told me I was already involved.”
My stomach tightened.
“He threatened you?”
She nodded.
“He said if I reported him, I'd lose my job and face criminal charges.”
I leaned back.
I believed she was frightened.
But fear didn't erase the fact that she had knowingly provided confidential information.
“Monica, you need a lawyer.”
She began crying harder.
“Are you firing me?”
I took a breath.
“I'm placing you on administrative leave while an independent investigation continues.”
She nodded.
“I understand.”
I looked at her.
“And you need to tell the full truth.”
She wiped her face.
“I will.”
After she left, I sat alone.
I thought about the people Darius had approached.
Vanessa.
Monica.
Possibly others.
He had found their weaknesses.
Vanessa wanted financial security and luxury.
Monica needed money for her family.
Raymond wanted to expand his company.
And I wanted love.
Darius had used those desires to manipulate people.
But that didn't excuse their choices.
It only explained how the damage spread.
Later that afternoon, Rochelle called.
“Ethan, Vanessa's attorney contacted us.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does she want?”
“She wants to provide information.”
I hesitated.
“About Darius?”
“Yes.”
I looked toward the window.
“Is she cooperating with investigators?”
“Her attorney says she's prepared to.”
I took a breath.
“Then let the proper process continue.”
Rochelle paused.
“Ethan, she also asked to apologize to you.”
I closed my eyes.
I wasn't ready.
“Not now.”
“I understand.”
I ended the call.
For several minutes, I sat quietly.
Then my father arrived.
He entered my office without his usual smile.
“Son.”
I stood.
“Dad.”
He hugged me.
I held him tightly.
For a moment, I felt like a child again.
Then he stepped back.
“Your mother told me about Monica.”
I nodded.
“Yeah.”
He sat down.
“How are you holding up?”
I laughed bitterly.
“I don't know.”
He studied my face.
“Have you eaten?”
I smiled faintly.
“You sound like Mom.”
He laughed.
“She trained me.”
I sat across from him.
For a while, we talked about ordinary things.
The weather.
His garden.
A neighbor's new truck.
Then I asked something that had been bothering me.
“Dad, how did you know Mom was the right person?”
He looked surprised.
“Your mother?”
I nodded.
“How did you know she wasn't pretending?”
He smiled sadly.
“Son, nobody can know everything about another person.”
I looked down.
“But trust grows when words and actions match over time.”
I nodded.
He leaned forward.
“And when they stop matching, you have to pay attention.”
I swallowed.
“I ignored so much.”
He shook his head.
“You loved her.”
I looked up.
“That doesn't mean you were wrong to trust. It means you need to learn from what happened.”
I felt tears gathering.
“Do you think I'll ever trust somebody again?”
He smiled gently.
“Yes.”
I looked away.
“I don't.”
He reached across the desk.
“Give yourself time.”
I nodded.
Then he said something I would never forget.
“Don't let the person who hurt you decide what kind of man you become afterward.”
My throat tightened.
I looked at him.
He smiled.
“You're still my son.”
I laughed through my tears.
“You're still the boy who used to bring home injured birds because you couldn't stand seeing anything suffer.”
I smiled.
I remembered those days.
My father would help me build little boxes for the birds.
We'd feed them until they were strong enough to fly.
Then we let them go.
He squeezed my hand.
“Don't lose that part of yourself.”
I nodded.
“I won't.”
That evening, I returned home and began packing Vanessa's belongings.
I didn't destroy anything.
I didn't throw her clothes into the street.
I carefully placed her things into boxes so they could be collected through an agreed arrangement.
Every item brought back memories.
A sweater she wore during our first winter together.
A photograph from our vacation.
A perfume bottle I bought for her birthday.
I sat on the bedroom floor and cried.
For two years, I had believed I was building a future.
Now I was packing that future into cardboard boxes.
Then my phone rang.
Rochelle.
I answered.
“Ethan?”
“Yes?”
“We have a major development.”
My heart tightened.
“What happened?”
“Investigators recovered documents from Darius's business records.”
I stood.
“What documents?”
“Records connected to your uncle Raymond's old company.”
I couldn't breathe.
Rochelle continued.
“They appear to show how funds were diverted before his business collapsed.”
My hands began shaking.
“Can they prove Darius was involved?”
“They're still reviewing them, but the connection is significant.”
I closed my eyes.
For fifteen years, my uncle had carried shame that might never have belonged to him.
And now we might finally be able to clear his name.
Then Rochelle said something else.
“Ethan, there's another issue.”
I swallowed.
“What?”
“Vanessa's name appears in several of the recent transactions.”
I stared at the wall.
“Did she authorize them?”
“The records suggest she did.”
I closed my eyes.
The woman I loved hadn't simply been manipulated into marrying me.
May you like
She had apparently taken an active role in moving money.
And whatever apology she wanted to offer, the evidence was beginning to speak louder than her tears.
