Chapter 2
I led my mother into a private dressing room behind the wedding pavilion.
My wedding coordinator, Danielle, followed us.
She closed the door and locked it.
For several seconds, Mom stood motionless beneath the bright dressing-room lights.
Then she began shaking.
I guided her toward a chair.
"Mom, tell me everything."
She looked at her reflection.
Her uneven silver hair framed a face I barely recognized.
"I'm so embarrassed."
I knelt in front of her.
"Please don't be."
She covered her face.
"I looked beautiful this morning, Nia."
My throat tightened.
"I know."
"I wanted you to remember me looking beautiful."
I took her hands.
"I will remember you standing beside me when I needed you."
She began crying again.
I waited until her breathing slowed.
Then I asked about the salon.
Mom had arrived at the bridal beauty studio at nine that morning.
Vanessa had arranged complimentary hair and makeup appointments for several members of the wedding party.
I remembered thanking her.
She had smiled sweetly.
Now the memory made me sick.
Mom explained that Vanessa met her at the entrance.
She told Mom that a senior stylist would prepare a special hairstyle for the mother of the bride.
Everything seemed normal at first.
The stylist washed her hair.
Applied conditioner.
And began arranging it.
Then Marcus arrived.
I stared at Mom.
"Marcus was at the salon?"
She nodded.
"He said he wanted to surprise you with a gift."
My stomach tightened.
"What gift?"
"An envelope."
She opened her silver clutch and removed a folded piece of paper.
Her hands trembled as she gave it to me.
I unfolded it.
The document had my name at the top.
It appeared to authorize a change to the ownership structure of my interior design company.
My heart began pounding.
Washington Design Studio.
The business I had spent six years building.
The company that paid for most of our wedding.
The company Marcus had repeatedly suggested combining with his family's event management business.
I stared at the document.
"Why did he give you this?"
Mom wiped her face.
"He said you had already agreed to make Vanessa a partner."
I felt sick.
"What?"
"He told me you wanted the family businesses to work together after the wedding."
I shook my head.
"That's a lie."
Mom looked devastated.
"I thought so."
She explained that Marcus asked her to sign as a witness.
He claimed I was too busy preparing for the ceremony and that the paperwork needed to be completed before the reception.
Mom refused.
She told him she would not sign a document concerning my company without speaking to me.
Marcus became irritated.
Then Vanessa entered.
Mom swallowed.
"She said I was trying to ruin your future."
I stared at her.
"Vanessa?"
Mom nodded.
"She said Marcus had worked too hard to build his business and that you were being selfish."
My hands tightened around the paper.
"What happened next?"
"The stylist told me to sit down. She said she needed to finish my hair."
Mom looked toward the mirror.
"Vanessa stood behind me."
Her voice broke.
"She picked up the scissors."
I felt a wave of nausea.
"Did you tell her to stop?"
"Yes."
Mom nodded quickly.
"I told her I didn't want anything cut."
She began crying.
"But she grabbed a section of my hair and cut it."
My chest tightened.
"I tried to stand, but the stylist was still holding the other side."
I stared at her.
"What did Marcus do?"
Mom closed her eyes.
"He told Vanessa to stop being dramatic."
I couldn't breathe.
"Then he laughed."
I felt something inside me collapse.
The man I had promised to marry had watched his sister humiliate my mother because she refused to sign a business document.
Mom continued.
"Vanessa said maybe I'd be more cooperative if I stopped acting like I was in charge."
I looked down at the paper.
The signature section remained blank.
Mom had refused.
And Vanessa had punished her.
"Did anyone record it?"
Mom hesitated.
"Vanessa did."
I remembered the video Marcus and Vanessa had been watching outside the bridal suite.
My stomach turned.
"Did the salon have cameras?"
"I think so."
I looked toward Danielle.
She had been standing quietly near the door.
"Can you help me contact the salon?"
She nodded immediately.
"Of course."
Then she looked at the document.
"Nia, there's something else you should know."
I turned.
"What?"
"Marcus asked me yesterday whether you had signed your business agreement."
My heart stopped.
"What business agreement?"
Danielle shook her head.
"He said there was paperwork connected to the wedding sponsorship."
I stared at her.
"There is no sponsorship."
Her expression changed.
"Then why did he ask me to keep the paperwork away from your mother?"
The room fell silent.
I looked at Mom.
Then at Danielle.
Something much larger than a cruel prank was happening.
My company was profitable.
We designed luxury hotels, corporate offices, and private residences.
Our newest contract involved a high-end residential development worth nearly three million dollars over several phases.
Marcus knew about it.
He had been asking questions for months.
He wanted to know who controlled the contracts.
Who owned the equipment.
Whether the company had outside investors.
At the time, I believed he was interested in my work.
Now I wondered whether he'd been calculating its value.
I took out my phone and called my business attorney, Angela Price.
She answered immediately.
"Nia? Aren't you getting married?"
"Not anymore."
There was silence.
Then she asked, "What happened?"
I explained the document.
Angela's voice became serious.
"Do not sign anything. Preserve the original paper and send me a photograph."
I did.
She examined it while we remained on the line.
"Nia, this appears to be an attempted ownership transfer."
My stomach dropped.
"Is it valid?"
"Not without proper execution and verification. But I need to review the entire document."
I looked toward Mom.
"What should I do?"
"Secure your business accounts. Do not allow Marcus or Vanessa access to confidential company systems. We'll review the records together."
I agreed.
After the call, Danielle knocked softly on the door.
"Someone wants to speak with you."
"Who?"
"Marcus."
I looked at Mom.
She immediately began trembling.
I stood.
"Tell him to leave."
Danielle nodded.
But before she could open the door, Marcus spoke from the hallway.
"Nia, I know you're in there."
I closed my eyes.
His voice sounded familiar.
The same voice that had comforted me when my father died.
The same voice that had promised to protect me.
Now it made me feel sick.
"Nia, please. We need to talk."
I walked toward the door.
"We can talk through our attorneys."
Silence.
Then his voice hardened.
"Don't make this worse."
I stared at the door.
"Worse for whom?"
He didn't answer.
Then I heard Vanessa.
"Marcus, tell her about the contract!"
My stomach tightened.
Marcus hissed something I couldn't hear.
Then footsteps hurried away.
I looked toward Mom.
Her face had turned pale.
"What contract?" she whispered.
I didn't know.
But I was beginning to suspect that Marcus hadn't proposed marriage simply because he loved me.
He might have been preparing to make my company part of his family's business.
And when my mother refused to cooperate, they tried to humiliate her into silence.
My phone vibrated.
An email from Angela.
She had searched the public business records.
A new company had been registered three weeks earlier.
Its name was Washington-Marcus Holdings.
The listed managers were Marcus and Vanessa.
And the company description included services identical to those provided by my business.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message arrived.
Angela wrote:
Nia, we need to talk immediately. Someone has already submitted documents claiming your company agreed to become part of this new business.
My hands began shaking.
The wedding hadn't simply been a celebration.
May you like
It had been part of a plan.
And I had walked away just before they expected me to sign away everything I'd built.
