Chapter 2: The Woman Behind the Accounts
The rain had soaked through my dress by the time I reached the black sedan waiting at the end of the driveway.
I pulled open the passenger door.
"You're late," I said.
My attorney, Daniel Brooks, glanced at his watch.
"You're seven minutes early.""
"Feels late.""
He looked at my cheek.
His expression hardened.
"Did he do that?""
I climbed inside.
"Yes.""
Daniel reached for his phone.
"I can call the police right now.""
"Not yet.""
"Nia, he assaulted you in front of thirty witnesses.""
"I know.""
"Then why are we waiting?""
I stared through the windshield at the mansion.
The enormous windows glowed against the dark sky. Inside, people were probably still holding champagne glasses, pretending they hadn't watched a husband strike his wife.
"Because I want the truth documented before Eleanor has another opportunity to bury it.""
Daniel exhaled.
"You're sure you want to proceed tonight?""
I nodded.
He opened his briefcase and removed a thick folder.
"Then we need to discuss what happened this afternoon.""
My stomach tightened.
"What did the bank say?""
Daniel placed a document between us.
"The account was accessed again.""
I stared at the transaction list.
Three withdrawals.
One for $240,000.
Another for $175,000.
The last one was $310,000.
All transferred to companies registered under different names.
But they shared one address.
Eleanor's private office.
"How much altogether?"" I asked.
"Since the beginning of the year? Approximately $2.8 million.""
I closed my eyes.
For months, I had suspected that something was wrong with the Whitmore family foundation.
The foundation supposedly supported women escaping domestic violence, funded shelters, and provided emergency housing.
Eleanor loved talking about it.
She appeared in newspaper photographs beside politicians and celebrities, wearing expensive jewelry while announcing another charitable donation.
People called her generous.
I had once believed them.
Then, six months earlier, I discovered that several shelters listed on the foundation's website had never received a single payment.
I had asked Eleanor about it.
She told Marcus I was jealous of her charitable work.
Marcus believed her.
Daniel opened another folder.
"There's something else.""
"What?""
"The money isn't coming from the Whitmore family.""
I frowned.
"What do you mean?""
He turned a document toward me.
At the top was the name of a company I recognized immediately.
Northstar Holdings.
My father's company.
I felt the air leave my lungs.
"That's impossible.""
Daniel shook his head.
"Your father established the company before he died. You inherited the controlling interest. The foundation received several transfers from its investment division.""
"Without my authorization?""
"Correct.""
I stared at the signatures.
My name appeared on the documents.
Nia Carter.
My maiden name.
The signature looked convincing.
But I had never signed those papers.
"Who authorized them?""
Daniel hesitated.
"Your husband.""
I looked at him.
"Marcus?""
"His signature appears beside the authorization. Eleanor signed as the foundation's financial administrator.""
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
I remembered Marcus telling me that he had been handling some routine investment matters.
He had asked me to sign several documents during our second year of marriage.
I had refused to sign anything I hadn't read.
He had laughed and called me overly cautious.
Now I understood why.
"Can we prove the signatures were forged?""
"We already have preliminary forensic evidence. But we need the original documents and the foundation's internal records.""
"Where are they?""
Daniel closed the folder.
"Inside the mansion.""
I looked toward the illuminated windows.
Eleanor kept her private office on the second floor. It was always locked. She claimed it contained confidential donor information.
Twice, I had seen her carrying documents into that room late at night.
Once, I heard her arguing on the phone.
The words had stayed with me.
"She doesn't know anything. Marcus will handle his wife.""
At the time, I thought she was discussing another family argument.
Now I wondered how much of my marriage had been planned.
My phone vibrated.
A message appeared.
*MARCUS: Come back inside. We need to talk.*
Another followed.
*MARCUS: My mother says you're making accusations you cannot prove.*
Then a third.
*MARCUS: Nia, please. Don't destroy our marriage over a misunderstanding.*
I showed Daniel.
He shook his head.
"He's already trying to control the narrative.""
I typed a response.
*NIA: You destroyed our marriage when you chose to believe a woman who was stealing from your wife's company.*
I pressed send.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Then disappeared.
Daniel started the engine.
"Where do you want to go?""
"Somewhere Eleanor can't find me.""
He nodded.
"I've arranged a room at the hotel under a different name.""
Before he could pull away, my phone rang.
Marcus.
I let it ring twice before answering.
"Nia," he said.
His voice sounded exhausted.
"Where are you?""
"Why?""
"Because you're my wife.""
I looked at the rain running down the window.
"That didn't stop you from hitting me.""
Silence.
Then he spoke.
"I shouldn't have done that.""
"No. You shouldn't have.""
"Can we talk without lawyers?""
I glanced at Daniel.
"Your mother has been moving millions of dollars through fraudulent companies. Why don't we start there?""
Marcus breathed heavily.
"She says you gave her permission.""
"Did she show you my signature?""
"Yes.""
"And did you check whether it was real?""
Another silence.
"She said you signed everything when you were traveling.""
"I wasn't traveling during those dates.""
"I know.""
His voice changed.
"What?""
"I said I know, Nia. I know you weren't.""
For the first time, he sounded genuinely uncertain.
"Marcus, what exactly did your mother tell you?""
Before he could answer, another voice interrupted.
Eleanor.
I heard her clearly.
"Hang up the phone, Marcus.""
He covered the microphone, but not quickly enough.
"Mom, I'm talking to my wife.""
"Your wife is manipulating you.""
"She has documents.""
"She has nothing.""
I heard something being placed on a table.
Then Eleanor spoke again.
"Marcus, remember what happens if she opens the original trust agreement.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"What trust agreement?"" I asked.
Marcus went silent.
Eleanor realized I was still listening.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Marcus whispered something that made my blood run cold.
"Mom, you told me her father died before he could change it.""
Daniel immediately looked at me.
I sat perfectly still.
May you like
Because my father had died six years ago.
And I had never heard of any agreement he supposedly changed.
