Chapter 3: The Signature That Wasn't Mine
The dining room seemed suddenly smaller.
The candles continued burning.
The turkey was getting cold.
And the man I had married was staring at me as though he were waiting for me to forgive him.
I didn't.
“Explain,” I said.
Marcus rubbed his face.
“Denise, I can explain everything.””
“Then explain the forged signature.””
“It's not forged.””
Daniel calmly removed his glasses.
“Mr. Carter, I strongly advise you not to make another statement without legal counsel.””
Marcus ignored him.
“Your father knew about the sale.””
I stared.
“My father died two years ago.””
“He discussed the property with me before he passed.””
“Then why is my signature on a document dated three days after his funeral?””
Marcus opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Vanessa stood beside her chair, gripping the backrest.
“Marcus, you told me the property belonged to you.””
He turned toward her.
“Not now.””
“No. I want an answer.””
“Vanessa, sit down.””
She shook her head.
“Don't order me around.””
I almost smiled.
It was remarkable how quickly a person could discover the true character of someone when the money disappeared.
Daniel placed the questionable document inside a clear protective sleeve.
“We have already requested a forensic examination of the signature. We also have copies of the original ownership records.””
Marcus leaned forward.
“You can't prove anything.””
Daniel looked at him.
“We don't need to prove everything tonight. The documents have already been preserved.””
Marcus turned toward me.
“Denise, listen. I made some mistakes. That's all.””
“Some mistakes?””
“I was under pressure. The company was expanding. You don't understand what it takes to manage all those properties.””
“I understand enough to know that you transferred money without authorization.””
“You think running a business is easy?””
“No. I think stealing from your wife is.””
His face reddened.
“I never stole from you!””
Daniel quietly slid another statement across the table.
“Would you like to explain the transfers to the consulting company registered under your brother's name?””
Marcus looked down.
Then up.
Then down again.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Vanessa picked up one of the documents.
Her eyes moved across the page.
“Wait.””
She looked at Marcus.
“This company paid for the jewelry?””
He didn't answer.
“And the apartment?””
Silence.
“And the vacations you told me came from your personal investments?””
Marcus finally snapped.
“Why are you questioning me? You knew I was married!””
Vanessa recoiled.
“What?””
“You knew my situation was complicated.””
“You told me you were getting divorced!””
“I said I was working on it.””
“You said she was practically your ex-wife!””
I sat quietly.
There was something almost poetic about hearing Marcus use the same excuses on Vanessa that he had used on me.
She turned toward me.
“Denise, I swear I didn't know about the company money.””
I studied her face.
Perhaps she was telling the truth.
Perhaps not.
But I wasn't interested in helping either of them escape the consequences.
“That's something you'll need to discuss with the investigators,” I said.
She wiped her eyes.
“I'm sorry.””
I looked at the bracelet.
“Did he tell you where that came from?””
She slowly lowered her wrist.
“No.””
“Did he tell you who paid for your apartment?””
Her lips trembled.
“No.””
“Then I suggest you stop accepting gifts from married men who can't explain where their money comes from.””
Vanessa looked down.
Marcus pushed his chair backward.
“This is insane. Denise, you're letting a jealous woman ruin our marriage.””
I stared at him.
“Which jealous woman?””
He froze.
I continued.
“The woman wearing my bracelet? The woman sitting in my chair? Or the woman you married eight years ago and decided was no longer worth respecting?””
“Don't twist my words.””
“I'm not twisting anything.””
I stood.
My knees felt strangely weak, but my voice remained steady.
“Daniel, what happens now?””
He opened his folder.
“The first step is to suspend Marcus's financial authority over the companies pending a full review. We can also notify the relevant banks that certain transactions are disputed and request preservation of the records.””
Marcus jumped up.
“You can't do that!””
Daniel remained seated.
“Your employment agreement contains a suspension provision.””
“You need my approval!””
“No, I don't.””
Marcus looked at me.
“Denise, you wouldn't dare.””
I remembered the night my father died.
Marcus had been sitting beside me in the hospital waiting room. I had cried into his shoulder while he promised that I would never have to face anything alone.
Three weeks later, he had begun moving company funds.
A year later, he had purchased another woman an apartment.
And now he was telling me I wouldn't dare protect what my father had left me.
I reached for the documents.
“Daniel, proceed.””
Daniel nodded.
Marcus's expression changed.
“You're making a terrible mistake.””
“No, Marcus. I made a mistake eight years ago when I confused your ambition with your character.””
He stared at me.
Then his eyes shifted toward the cake.
Twelve candles.
Eight years of marriage.
A life that was now collapsing around a dining table.
He suddenly lowered his voice.
“Denise, please.””
I didn't answer.
“Think about what we're doing. We can work this out privately.””
“You had eight years to work things out privately.””
“I love you.””
The words landed with such pathetic familiarity that I almost laughed.
“You love me?””
“Yes.””
“Then why did you give my seat to Vanessa?””
He looked toward her.
She was already collecting her handbag.
“Vanessa, wait.””
She didn't stop.
“Marcus, don't.””
He reached for her arm.
She pulled away.
“You told me you were going to marry me.””
“I said we would discuss it.””
“You showed me houses.””
“Vanessa—”
“You told me your wife was controlling your money and you were trying to get free.””
Marcus looked furious.
“Keep your voice down.””
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
“You're worried about your reputation now?””
She took off the gold bracelet.
For a moment, she held it in her palm.
Then she placed it beside the anniversary cake.
“I don't want anything else from you.””
She walked toward the front door.
Marcus watched her leave.
Then he turned to me.
“Look what you've done.””
I stared at him.
“What I've done?””
“You destroyed everything.””
“No, Marcus. I finally stopped helping you hide it.””
He approached me.
His expression softened again, and he reached for my hand.
I stepped away.
“Don't touch me.””
“Denise, please. We need to talk.””
“We have nothing left to discuss tonight.””
“You can't just throw away eight years.””
I looked at the empty chair beside him.
The chair he had given Vanessa.
Then I looked at the anniversary card torn in half inside the kitchen trash can.
“I didn't throw away eight years,” I said.
“You did.””
Daniel gathered the documents.
“I'll contact you tomorrow morning. There are a few more things we need to review.””
I nodded.
He walked toward the front door.
Before leaving, he paused.
“Denise, one thing.””
“What?””
He glanced toward Marcus, then lowered his voice.
“The financial transfers are only part of the problem.””
I frowned.
“What do you mean?””
Daniel removed a small flash drive from his jacket pocket.
“Your father asked me to preserve this shortly before he died.””
My heart began pounding.
“Why didn't you give it to me before?””
“Because he instructed me to wait until I had independent evidence that Marcus was attempting to transfer ownership of the Riverside property.””
I stared at the flash drive.
“What does it contain?””
Daniel's expression grew serious.
“A recording. Your father made it himself.””
Marcus suddenly stepped forward.
“Daniel, don't.””
I turned.
My husband's face had gone completely white.
Daniel noticed.
“Interesting,” he said quietly.
“You seem to know what's on it.””
Marcus shook his head.
“I don't know what you're talking about.””
Daniel placed the flash drive in my palm.
“Listen to it tonight. Alone.””
Then he left.
The front door closed.
For a long moment, I stood in the hallway, holding the small piece of plastic.
Behind me, Marcus began pacing.
“Give me that.””
I closed my fingers around it.
“No.””
“Denise, whatever your father recorded, it has nothing to do with our marriage.””
“Then why are you afraid of it?””
“I'm not afraid.””
His voice cracked.
I walked toward the dining room.
The anniversary cake still sat in the middle of the table. The candles had burned down, leaving little pools of wax around the frosting.
I picked up my phone and called my assistant.
“Rachel? I need you to arrange access to the Riverside property records first thing tomorrow.””
“Of course. Is everything all right?””
I looked at Marcus.
“No. But it will be.””
I ended the call.
Marcus stood at the other end of the table.
“Where are you going?””
“Upstairs.””
“We haven't finished talking.””
“I have.””
I turned away.
Then my phone vibrated.
An email had arrived from Daniel.
The subject line read:
*URGENT: YOUR FATHER'S FINAL INSTRUCTIONS.*
I opened it.
There was one sentence above the attached audio file.
Denise, before you make any decision about your husband, you need to know what your father discovered about him.
I looked at Marcus.
He was watching me.
May you like
And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said:
“Whatever you hear, remember that your father wasn't telling you the whole truth either.””
