Chapter 5: What Nia Had Seen Before
The ballroom fell silent again.
Marcus looked at Nia.
"What do you mean, you've seen one before?""
Nia held her phone tightly against her chest.
"I saw one in the upstairs study three weeks ago.""
Vanessa immediately shook her head.
"That's impossible.""
Nia turned toward her.
"I was cleaning the shelves near the desk. You came in carrying a black bottle and asked me to leave.""
"I never did that.""
"You did.""
"You're confusing me with someone else!""
Nia's voice trembled, but she kept going.
"You told me the study was private. You said you didn't want anyone touching anything on the desk. When I came back later, the bottle was gone.""
Marcus felt the muscles in his jaw tighten.
The upstairs study was his private office. Vanessa had access to it, of course, but he had never known her to keep cleaning products there.
"What was the bottle doing in my study?"" he asked.
Vanessa threw up her hands.
"How am I supposed to remember every little thing I carry around?""
"It was three weeks ago," Nia replied.
"You told me to leave the room.""
"Because you were snooping!""
"I was dusting.""
"Enough!"" Marcus snapped.
The force of his voice silenced them both.
He turned toward Nia.
"Did you see her use the bottle?""
"No, sir.""
"Did you see what was inside it?""
"No.""
"Did you see her put anything into food or drink?""
Nia hesitated.
Vanessa seized on the pause.
"There! You see? She has nothing. She's building a story out of ordinary things because she wants attention.""
Nia's eyes filled with tears.
"I don't want attention.""
"Then stop accusing me!""
"I never accused you of anything until tonight. I only asked you what was in the bottle.""
"And you got your answer!""
"You told me to mind my business.""
Vanessa stepped toward her.
"Because it wasn't your business!""
Marcus moved between them.
"Back away from her.""
Vanessa stopped.
The hurt that crossed her face seemed almost convincing.
"You're protecting the maid from me now?""
"I'm protecting everyone in this room from this getting any worse.""
"You don't even know me anymore.""
Marcus looked at the woman he had planned to marry.
"I am beginning to wonder if I ever did.""
Vanessa went still.
For a moment, he thought she might slap him.
Instead, she turned toward Loretta.
"Tell him he's being unreasonable.""
Loretta stood with her shoulders straight, one hand resting against the pearl necklace at her throat.
"Vanessa, I have welcomed you into this family. I have defended you when people questioned how quickly your relationship with Marcus progressed. I have even apologized for things I never did because I wanted you two to be happy.""
Vanessa's eyes narrowed.
"And now you're going to throw all that away over a bottle?""
"No," Loretta replied.
"I'm asking you to tell the truth.""
"You have never wanted me to marry him.""
Loretta's face tightened.
"That is not an answer.""
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
"You know what your problem is? You think Marcus belongs to you. You cannot stand the idea that another woman might become the most important person in his life.""
Marcus stared at her.
"Don't bring my mother into this.""
"Why? Because she's allowed to accuse me, but I'm not allowed to defend myself?""
"You're allowed to defend yourself. You aren't allowed to threaten people into silence.""
Vanessa opened her mouth, then closed it.
A waiter approached cautiously.
"Mr. Reed?""
Marcus turned.
The man was holding a small silver tray with two untouched dessert plates.
"Should we remove the cake?""
"Don't touch it," Marcus said.
"Please set the tray down and ask the kitchen staff to stay available.""
The waiter nodded and retreated.
Marcus took a slow breath.
He was trying to think clearly, but memories kept interrupting him.
Three weeks earlier, he had come home late after a business dinner and found Vanessa sitting in the study. She had closed his laptop when he entered.
He had asked what she was doing.
She had smiled and said she was looking for photographs of his late father.
At the time, he had thought nothing of it.
Now, the memory felt different.
"Vanessa," he said, "have you been in my study recently?""
She blinked.
"Of course. I live here.""
"You know what I mean. Have you opened my desk drawers?""
"Why are you asking me that?""
"Because Nia said she saw you carrying a bottle in there.""
Vanessa looked away.
"I may have been cleaning something.""
"Cleaning what?""
"I don't remember!""
Marcus studied her face.
"Did you open the locked drawer?""
The question landed like a stone dropped into still water.
Vanessa stopped moving.
Loretta turned toward her son.
"Marcus, what locked drawer?""
He barely heard her.
His attention was fixed on Vanessa.
The study contained a narrow walnut desk that had belonged to his father. One drawer remained locked because it held old family documents, private correspondence, and several items Marcus had never fully cataloged after his father's death.
Vanessa knew about it.
She had asked him once why he never opened it.
He had told her the key was kept separately.
He had thought the conversation ended there.
Now, watching her face, he understood that it might not have.
"Did you open that drawer?"" he repeated.
Vanessa forced a smile.
"This is absurd.""
"Answer me.""
"Why would I want to open a drawer full of old papers?""
"That's what I'm asking.""
She looked around the ballroom as though the guests themselves had become enemies.
Then she lifted her chin.
"No. I did not open it.""
Marcus held her gaze.
"You're sure?""
"Absolutely.""
Nia made a small sound.
Everyone turned toward her.
She looked as if she wanted to disappear into the floor.
"What is it?"" Marcus asked.
Nia glanced at Vanessa.
Then at Loretta.
Finally, she reached into the pocket of her apron and removed a small folded piece of paper.
"I found this under the desk in the study last week," she said.
"I didn't know what it was, so I kept it because I thought it might belong to you.""
Vanessa's face drained of color.
Marcus took the paper.
It was an old maintenance slip from the estate's locksmith, dated twelve days earlier.
Beneath the printed service details, someone had written a brief handwritten note.
*Duplicate key made. Walnut desk. Authorized by V. Cole.*
Marcus read it once.
Then again.
He looked up slowly.
"You told me you never opened that drawer.""
Vanessa's lips trembled.
"I can explain.""
"How did you get a duplicate key made?""
"I didn't.""
"Your name is right here.""
"Anyone could have written that!""
Nia shook her head.
"The locksmith's number is on the receipt.""
Vanessa spun toward her.
"You should have thrown that away!""
The instant the words left her mouth, the room seemed to stop breathing.
Marcus stared at her.
Nia stared back.
Loretta slowly lowered her hand from her necklace.
Marcus held the paper between two fingers.
"You knew about this receipt.""
Vanessa's eyes widened.
"No. I meant—"
"You knew it existed before you saw it.""
She took a step backward.
Marcus felt the last of his certainty collapse.
Whatever was happening tonight, it was no longer just about a cake.
He looked toward the ballroom doors and called to the nearest security guard.
"Get me the locksmith's contact information. And nobody leaves this room until we have spoken to the police.""
Vanessa's composure shattered.
"Marcus, don't do this!""
He turned toward her.
"Tell me what you were looking for in my father's desk.""
Her eyes filled with tears.
Then she whispered the words that made Loretta grip the edge of the table.
"I wasn't looking for your father's papers.""
Marcus's heart pounded.
"What were you looking for?""
May you like
Vanessa looked directly at him.
"Something your mother has been hiding from you.""
