Chapter 2: The Money My Wife Never Told Me About
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The refrigerator hummed in the kitchen. Somewhere outside, a car passed through the quiet neighborhood.
I looked at Nia.
"What house sale is she talking about?""
Nia shook her head, but tears were already gathering in her eyes.
"Marcus, I can explain.""
"Then explain.""
Brielle crossed her arms.
"See? This is exactly what I mean. Everyone acts like I'm the problem, but Mom has been keeping secrets too.""
I turned toward her.
"You're not helping yourself.""
She grabbed her handbag.
"Fine. Believe whatever you want.""
"Sit down.""
"I'm twenty-two, Marcus. You don't get to order me around.""
"No. But I get to ask why someone tried to steal my house.""
Her jaw tightened.
Then she sat.
Nia reached for my hand.
"Can we talk upstairs?""
I glanced at her swollen feet.
"No. You're staying right here. You shouldn't be climbing stairs tonight.""
I brought her a glass of water and placed a cushion behind her back.
Then I sat opposite her.
"Start from the beginning.""
Nia took a slow breath.
"About four months ago, Brielle came to me and said she was in trouble.""
"What kind of trouble?""
"She owed money.""
Brielle rolled her eyes.
"Here we go.""
I ignored her.
"How much?""
Nia looked down.
"She said about twelve thousand dollars.""
I stared at my stepdaughter.
"Twelve thousand?""
"It wasn't just one thing," Brielle said quickly.
"My car needed repairs. I had credit card bills. There were some other expenses.""
"Other expenses?""
She shrugged.
"Things happen.""
I looked at Nia.
"Did you pay it?""
"Not all of it.""
"How much?""
"Eight thousand.""
I leaned back.
Eight thousand dollars.
My wife had taken eight thousand dollars from our joint savings without telling me.
I wasn't angry that she had helped her daughter.
I was angry that she had felt she couldn't talk to me about it.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because you were traveling constantly, and Brielle said she would repay it.""
"With what money?""
Nia looked at her daughter.
Brielle stared at the carpet.
I slowly understood.
There had been no repayment plan.
"Then what happened?""
Nia wiped her cheeks.
"She came back two weeks later. She said she needed more help. She told me someone was threatening to take her car.""
"Who?""
"I don't know.""
Brielle interrupted.
"Mom doesn't understand how these things work.""
I turned toward her.
"Then help us understand.""
She sighed dramatically.
"It was a private lender.""
"Did you borrow money from someone?""
"Yes.""
"How much?""
She looked away.
"Thirty thousand.""
My mouth fell open.
"Thirty thousand dollars?""
"It wasn't all at once.""
"Where did it go?""
"That's none of your business.""
I stood.
"You're sitting in my house, explaining why someone has forged my signature on a property document. Everything connected to this situation is my business.""
Brielle looked at her mother.
"Tell him.""
Nia shook her head.
"Tell him what?""
"About the money Dad left me.""
The room went silent.
I slowly turned toward Nia.
"What money?""
My wife closed her eyes.
Brielle laughed bitterly.
"Of course she didn't tell you.""
I sat down again.
"Which dad?""
"My biological father," Brielle answered.
"He died when I was fifteen.""
I remembered him.
Ethan.
He and Nia had divorced years before I met her. I had never been particularly close to him, but I knew he had left something behind for Brielle.
I also knew Nia had handled the paperwork.
"How much did he leave?""
Brielle smiled without humor.
"Enough that I shouldn't have to beg anyone for money.""
Nia's voice trembled.
"Your father left a trust. You weren't supposed to access all of it until you turned twenty-five.""
Brielle leaned forward.
"That's what you told me.""
"Because that's what the documents said.""
"Then why did I find out last month that the account had been changed?""
My stomach tightened.
"What account?""
Nia looked at me.
"I didn't change anything.""
Brielle pulled her phone from her handbag.
"Really?""
She opened an email and shoved the screen toward me.
It was a notification from a financial institution.
The subject line read: *Trust Account Distribution Inquiry.*
Below it was a request to authorize an early withdrawal.
The recipient information had been partially hidden.
But the account holder's name was clear.
Nia Carter.
I looked up.
"Why is your name on this?""
Nia stared at the screen.
"I don't know.""
Brielle laughed.
"That's convenient.""
I took the phone and examined the date.
The request had been submitted three weeks earlier.
The same period when Nia had started becoming withdrawn.
"Did you authorize this?""
"No.""
"Did you know about it?""
"No, Marcus.""
Brielle stood abruptly.
"You're both unbelievable.""
She snatched her phone back.
"My father left that money for me. Mom was supposed to protect it. Instead, she has been treating it like her personal savings account.""
Nia's face crumpled.
"I never touched your trust.""
"Then explain the withdrawal request!""
"I can't!""
Brielle grabbed a decorative vase from the side table and slammed it down.
"You're always pretending to be the victim!""
The vase shattered against the floor.
Nia gasped and covered her belly.
I immediately moved between them.
"That's enough!""
Brielle froze.
I pointed toward the hallway.
"Do not come near your mother again tonight.""
She stared at me.
"You're choosing her?""
"I'm protecting her.""
"After everything I've been through?""
I looked at the broken pieces of porcelain.
"Your mother is seven months pregnant. She was on her knees cleaning your party while you danced on our furniture. And now you're screaming at her because she won't give you money.""
Brielle's eyes filled with tears.
But there was no apology.
Only anger.
"You have no idea what she's capable of.""
I took a step closer.
"Then tell me.""
She looked at Nia.
For a moment, her expression softened.
Then she whispered:
"Ask her what happened the night my father died.""
Nia went completely still.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"What does Ethan's death have to do with any of this?""
Brielle picked up her handbag.
"Everything.""
She walked toward the front door.
I didn't stop her.
But before she stepped outside, she turned around.
"That envelope wasn't supposed to reach you today.""
My heart started pounding.
"Why?""
Brielle looked directly at me.
"Because the lawyer was supposed to contact Mom first.""
Then she left.
I locked the door.
When I turned around, Nia was staring at the broken vase.
"Nia?""
She didn't answer.
I knelt beside her.
"Look at me.""
Her eyes met mine.
"Marcus, I need to tell you something about Ethan.""
"What?""
She swallowed.
"The man who sent that envelope wasn't supposed to be representing Brielle.""
I frowned.
"What do you mean?""
Nia reached into the pocket of her gray shirt and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
It was a hospital document.
At the top was Ethan's name.
Beneath it was a date.
The date of his death.
And next to the name of the attending physician was a handwritten note that made my skin crawl.
*Patient requested immediate contact with legal representative before death.*
I looked at Nia.
"Why do you have this?""
May you like
She whispered four words.
"Because he wasn't alone.""
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