Chapter 2: The Woman Who Knew My Father
For several seconds, I couldn't open the envelope.
I simply stared at my father's handwriting.
The letters were slightly crooked, especially the capital N. He had always written my name that way, pressing too hard on the paper as though he wanted to make sure the ink would never disappear.
My father, Robert Carter, had been a quiet man.
He owned a small construction company, coached my younger brother's baseball team, and believed that a person's character was measured by what they did when nobody was watching.
He had died from a heart attack six years earlier.
I had kept his old watch in my bedroom drawer ever since.
Now, standing in front of 180 wedding guests, I was holding an envelope addressed to me in his handwriting.
"Where did you get this?"" I asked Vanessa.
She glanced at Marcus.
"He gave it to me.""
Marcus immediately stepped forward.
"That's not true.""
Vanessa's expression hardened.
"Would you like me to explain how I found it?""
"Vanessa, stop.""
She looked at me again.
"Your father left instructions with someone he trusted. I was supposed to give you that letter if Marcus ever went through with the wedding.""
My fingers tightened around the envelope.
"What does Marcus have to do with my father?""
Nobody spoke.
Even the officiant had stepped away from the altar.
I looked at my fiancé.
"Tell me.""
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
"Nia, your father and I had a business disagreement years ago. That's all.""
Vanessa shook her head.
"That's not all.""
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a folded sheet of cream-colored paper.
The first line made my knees weak.
My beautiful Nia, if you're reading this, someone has finally found the courage to tell you what I couldn't.
I stopped.
My eyes blurred.
Brielle moved closer.
"Do you want me to read it?""
I shook my head.
"No. It's from my dad.""
I continued.
There is something I need you to know about the company, the money, and the man you may someday choose to marry.
I looked up.
Marcus had gone completely still.
My father had owned Carter Development, a construction company that specialized in commercial properties across South Carolina.
When he died, the business was struggling.
There were debts, unfinished projects, and several complicated contracts.
Marcus had entered my life about a year later.
He had worked as a financial consultant for one of the company's investors. He helped my family organize the accounts, negotiate with creditors, and eventually sell the remaining business assets.
At the time, I had considered him a blessing.
My mother had called him an answer to our prayers.
But the letter continued.
Marcus Reed knows about the missing money. He knows why I refused to sign the final agreement. He knows what happened to the building on Mercer Street.
I read that paragraph twice.
Then a third time.
"Mercer Street?"" I whispered.
My father had owned a historic warehouse on Mercer Street. It was supposed to become a community center before his death.
I had spent weekends there as a teenager, helping him paint walls and carry boxes.
After he died, Marcus told me the property had been sold to settle company debts.
I had never questioned it.
"Marcus," I said slowly.
"What happened to the Mercer Street building?""
He glanced toward his mother.
Evelyn stood abruptly.
"This is ridiculous. We are not discussing business matters during a wedding.""
I turned toward her.
"Then you should have told your son not to bring business matters into my marriage.""
A murmur passed through the guests.
Vanessa took another step forward.
"The building wasn't sold.""
Marcus closed his eyes.
My throat tightened.
"Where is it?""
Vanessa reached into her handbag again and produced a folded document.
"The property was transferred into a private company. A company registered under a different name.""
She handed it to me.
I looked at the document.
The registered owner was Reed Holdings.
Marcus's family business.
The transfer date was eleven months after my father's death.
I stared at the signature.
It wasn't my father's.
It was mine.
My stomach twisted.
"That's impossible.""
Marcus reached for the paper.
I pulled it away.
"I never signed this.""
He lowered his voice.
"Nia, listen to me.""
"That's my signature.""
"I know.""
"You know?""
His silence was answer enough.
I looked at the document again.
My signature appeared at the bottom of the page, beneath a statement authorizing the transfer of the property.
But I remembered that period clearly.
I had been working as a junior marketing manager in Atlanta. Marcus had told me there were several inheritance documents that required my signature.
He had brought them to my apartment one evening.
I had signed where he pointed.
I had trusted him.
"Did you forge this?"" I asked.
"No.""
"Then how did my signature get here?""
He exhaled sharply.
"You signed the documents. You just didn't understand what they were.""
My face burned.
"You told me they were inheritance tax forms.""
"I was trying to protect you from a complicated situation.""
Vanessa let out a bitter laugh.
"That's exactly what he told me.""
I turned toward her.
"What did he promise you?""
For the first time, she looked directly at Marcus.
"He promised me that when the Mercer Street property was transferred, he would give me my share.""
Marcus stepped toward her.
"That is enough.""
She ignored him.
"Your father discovered that Marcus's family had been using his company to move money between several businesses. He confronted them. Then he refused to sign a settlement agreement.""
My hands began trembling.
"Are you saying Marcus stole from my father?""
"I'm saying he helped his family take something your father built.""
Marcus finally lost his patience.
"Vanessa, you have no idea what you're talking about!""
She reached into her bag and pulled out a small flash drive.
"I have the bank statements. I have the emails. And I have the original agreement.""
Marcus stared at it.
His expression changed from anger to something much worse.
Fear.
"Where did you get that?"" he demanded.
"From your office.""
"You stole company property?""
"No," she replied.
"I copied the files you thought nobody would ever find.""
I looked between them.
"Who are you, Vanessa?""
She hesitated.
Then she said something that made the entire room seem to tilt.
"I'm not his mistress, Nia.""
Marcus's jaw tightened.
Vanessa continued.
"I'm his former fiancée.""
A wave of whispers moved through the church.
I looked at Marcus.
"You were engaged to her?""
He shook his head.
"It was years ago.""
"How many years?""
"Five.""
Vanessa laughed without humor.
"Four years and eight months, actually. He proposed to me before he met you.""
My heart pounded.
"Then why did you tell everyone you were just a business associate?""
Marcus looked at the floor.
Vanessa answered for him.
"Because I discovered he was using the same promises, the same lies, and the same paperwork with you that he used with me.""
I felt suddenly cold.
The wedding ring on my finger seemed heavier than it had moments earlier.
Vanessa moved closer and lowered her voice.
"There's one more thing your father wanted you to know.""
"What?""
She looked at the envelope.
"Your father didn't die without leaving you an inheritance.""
I stared at her.
"What inheritance?""
"The Mercer Street property was never supposed to belong to Marcus. Your father had placed it in a trust.""
She paused.
"And you were the sole beneficiary.""
I looked down at the document again.
The transfer had happened after my father's death.
Which meant someone had deliberately taken the property out of the trust.
"Who authorized the transfer?"" I asked.
Vanessa pointed toward Marcus.
"He did.""
Marcus stepped forward.
"That's a lie!""
But before I could respond, a man in a gray suit stood from the front pew.
I recognized him.
Daniel Price.
Marcus's attorney.
He had supposedly been handling the legal paperwork three days earlier.
He walked toward the altar, holding a leather folder.
"Nia," he said carefully.
"I think there's something else you need to see.""
Marcus turned sharply.
"Daniel, sit down.""
The attorney ignored him.
He placed the folder on the altar.
Inside was a copy of the original trust agreement.
And beneath the beneficiary section was a name I had never expected to see.
*Nia Carter-Reed.*
Not Nia Carter.
Not yet.
The document had been prepared before my wedding.
I looked at Daniel.
"Why does it have my married name?""
He swallowed.
"Because Marcus had already filed the paperwork to make the transfer effective immediately after the ceremony.""
I slowly turned toward my fiancé.
He wasn't looking at me anymore.
May you like
He was looking at the folder.
And I finally understood why he had been so desperate to get me to the altar.
