Chapter 3: The Room He Thought I Never Entered
My office was at the end of the second-floor hallway.
It had been my grandmother's favorite room when she lived in the mansion. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the gardens, and the walls were lined with books she had collected over forty years.
After she died, I turned it into my workspace.
Marcus rarely entered.
He called it my little museum.
Now, someone was trying to get inside.
I reached for my phone.
“I'm calling the police.””
Marcus immediately shook his head.
“Wait.””
I stared at him.
“Why?””
“Because whoever's in there might be one of the maintenance people.””
“Maintenance people don't enter locked offices.””
My mother pulled out her phone.
“Call the police, Lauren.””
Marcus stepped between us.
“Elaine, please. You're making this into something it isn't.””
She looked him directly in the eyes.
“Move.””
For a second, I thought he might refuse.
Then the security panel beeped again.
*ACCESS ATTEMPT TERMINATED.*
I looked at the screen.
“Who has access to my office?””
Marcus rubbed his wet hair.
“You, me, and the house manager.””
I frowned.
“The house manager left two months ago.””
“Right.””
“So why is his code still active?””
Marcus didn't answer.
My mother looked at me.
“Call the police.””
I did.
The dispatcher asked whether anyone was injured, whether there were weapons in the house, and whether the person inside was known to me.
I answered as clearly as I could.
While I was speaking, Marcus paced around the patio.
He kept checking his phone.
Then he walked toward the pool house.
I followed him with my eyes.
“Where are you going?””
“To get dressed.””
“Your clothes are burning.””
He glanced toward the fireplace.
“Then I'll get something else.””
I didn't stop him.
My mother stood beside me until the call ended.
“Lauren, I need to tell you something.””
I turned.
“What?””
“Your grandmother asked me to watch out for you after she died.””
I gave a bitter smile.
“You've been doing a wonderful job.””
“I know.””
Her voice cracked.
“I should have told you sooner.””
I waited.
She took a slow breath.
“Six months ago, a man from the bank called me. He said Marcus had submitted a request to refinance the property.””
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because I thought it was a mistake. Your grandmother's attorney had made the ownership restrictions very clear.””
“What restrictions?””
My mother looked toward the house.
“Your grandmother created a trust. The property could not be sold, transferred, or used as collateral without your direct authorization and independent legal verification.””
I stared at her.
“Then how did Marcus get that far?””
“Someone supplied documents that appeared to give him authority to act on your behalf.””
I thought about the papers.
The signature.
The notary.
The strange notification.
“Who notarized them?””
My mother shook her head.
“That's what the attorney is investigating.””
A police siren sounded in the distance.
Then I heard footsteps.
Brianna had changed into a pair of shorts and a white T-shirt she had apparently found in the pool house.
She approached slowly.
“Lauren?””
I turned.
She looked uncomfortable.
“I think I should tell you something.””
Marcus appeared behind her.
“Brianna, don't.””
She ignored him.
“I work for Marcus.””
I folded my arms.
“I gathered that.””
“No. I mean, I work for his company. I handle his accounts, travel arrangements, and paperwork.””
“What paperwork?””
She glanced at Marcus.
“The property documents.””
My stomach tightened.
“You helped him submit them?””
“I didn't know what they were at first. He said you had authorized everything.””
Marcus shook his head.
“She doesn't understand the process.””
Brianna pulled out her phone.
“I have the emails.””
He moved toward her.
I stepped between them.
“Don't come any closer.””
He stopped.
Brianna opened her email and showed me a chain of messages.
One subject line caught my attention.
*PROJECT PEACHTREE — FINAL TRANSFER DOCUMENTS.*
Attached was a PDF containing a property valuation, the trust information, and a proposed transfer agreement.
I scrolled.
There was my name.
There was my grandmother's name.
And there was a company I had never heard of.
Peachtree Capital Holdings.
“What is this company?””
Brianna answered quietly.
“Marcus's investment company.””
I looked at him.
“You own a company?””
“It's a small investment firm.””
“Since when?””
“Lauren, we can talk about this privately.””
I shook my head.
“No more private conversations.””
Brianna continued.
“The company was supposed to purchase the property after the loan was approved.””
I stared at her.
“Purchase it from whom?””
She hesitated.
“From you.””
The words seemed to echo around the patio.
Marcus finally lost his temper.
“That's enough!””
He grabbed Brianna's phone.
She yanked it away.
“Don't touch me!””
My mother moved toward us.
“Everyone stay where they are.””
The police arrived a minute later.
Two officers entered through the front gate while another remained near the driveway.
I explained what had happened.
Marcus immediately changed his tone.
He became calm, polite, and almost charming.
“Officer, this is a domestic disagreement. My girlfriend is upset, and her mother is encouraging her to overreact.””
The older officer looked at me.
“Ma'am, is this your residence?””
“Yes.””
“Do you have proof of ownership?””
I went inside and returned with a copy of the deed.
He examined it.
Then he asked Marcus whether he had any legal claim to the property.
Marcus produced a folder from the pool house.
“I have a power of attorney.””
The officer studied the document.
“Did she sign this?””
Marcus nodded.
I shook my head.
“No.””
The officer looked between us.
“Then we'll need to verify it.””
Marcus's expression hardened.
“I'm not leaving my home.””
The officer remained calm.
“Sir, no one has asked you to leave yet.””
Then he examined the attached notarization.
His eyebrows lifted.
“Interesting.””
“What?”” I asked.
He pointed to the notary stamp.
“This document was notarized in Fulton County.””
I nodded.
“Okay?””
He looked at the date.
Then at Marcus.
“Do you know this notary?””
Marcus swallowed.
The officer turned the document around.
“Because this stamp belongs to someone who died four years ago.””
Nobody moved.
Even Brianna looked stunned.
Marcus's face went white.
The officer placed the paper inside a protective evidence sleeve.
“Sir, I think we need to have a longer conversation.””
Then my phone rang.
It was my attorney.
I answered.
“Lauren, don't sign anything. Don't agree to anything. And whatever you do, don't let Marcus leave with his laptop.””
I looked toward the pool house.
“Why?””
May you like
My attorney paused.
“Because someone just filed a second transfer application using your identity.””
