Chapter 6: The Money That Was Never Hers
For several seconds, nobody in Margaret Ellis's office spoke.
I kept staring at the purchase agreement.
My mother's signature was at the bottom.
My sister's name appeared beside the account that had received the deposit.
And the property being sold belonged to me.
“That's impossible,” Dad finally said.
Margaret folded her hands.
“I'm afraid the documents suggest otherwise.””
Dad picked up the agreement and examined it.
“How much was the deposit?””
“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.””
I felt the room tilt.
“Two hundred and fifty thousand?””
Margaret nodded.
“The prospective buyer transferred the funds three weeks ago. The agreement identifies Vanessa as the authorized seller, but she had no legal authority to transfer ownership.””
Dad looked furious.
“Where is the money now?””
“That is something we are investigating. The receiving account belongs to Brielle.””
I turned toward him.
“Dad, did you know?””
He looked at me.
“About the property? No. I knew your grandmother owned the building, but I believed it was sold years ago.””
Margaret shook her head.
“She never sold it. She transferred it into Nia's trust before her death.””
Dad lowered the document.
“My wife told me that property had been liquidated to cover your grandmother's medical expenses.””
I looked at him.
“And you believed her?””
His expression crumbled.
“I had no reason to think she was lying.””
I wanted to be angry with him.
Part of me was.
But I could see that he was discovering the same ugly truth I was.
Margaret opened another folder.
“I recommend that neither of you contact Vanessa or Brielle about the purchase agreement until we have secured the relevant records.””
Dad nodded.
“What happens now?””
“First, we notify the title company that the proposed sale is disputed. Second, we send formal notice to the buyer. Third, we request that the deposit remain untouched while the transaction is investigated.””
“And the bank fraud?””
“We should coordinate with the financial institution and the appropriate authorities.””
I stared at the documents.
“Can they actually sell the building?””
“Not legally without your authorization.””
I swallowed.
“But they tried.””
“Yes.””
Margaret's voice softened.
“And that matters.””
Dad placed a hand on my shoulder.
“We'll make this right.””
I looked at him.
“I don't want you to make it right for me.””
He frowned.
“What do you mean?””
“I want you to help me understand everything. I don't want to spend the rest of my life waiting for someone else to protect me.””
He nodded slowly.
“Then that's what we'll do.””
When we arrived home, Vanessa was sitting in the living room.
She had changed into a cream sweater and matching trousers. A shopping bag rested beside her.
She looked up from her phone.
“Finally. I've been waiting for you.””
Dad closed the front door.
“Where is Brielle?””
“Upstairs.””
“Call her.””
Vanessa sighed.
“Arthur, can we please stop this?””
He placed a copy of the purchase agreement on the coffee table.
Her eyes fell on the document.
For the first time since I had known her, my mother looked genuinely frightened.
“Where did you get that?””
“From Margaret Ellis.””
Vanessa stood.
“You had no right to involve her.””
I stared at her.
“She is my grandmother's attorney.””
“She is an old woman who has no understanding of how this family operates.””
Dad's voice became dangerously quiet.
“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, Vanessa.””
She looked at him.
“What?””
“The deposit from the attempted sale of Nia's building. Why was it transferred to Brielle?””
Vanessa picked up the document.
Then she placed it down as if it had burned her fingers.
“It was a temporary arrangement.””
“Explain.””
“The boutique needed capital.””
“You used our daughter's property to fund your business?””
“It was going to be a family business!””
I stepped forward.
“You didn't ask me.””
Vanessa turned toward me.
“Because you would have said no.””
“Exactly.””
She opened her mouth, then stopped.
Dad stared at her.
“Did you tell the buyer you owned the property?””
“I had an agreement.””
“With whom?””
“With Melissa.””
“Melissa doesn't own it either.””
Vanessa's face reddened.
“You don't understand the situation.””
“Then explain it.””
She looked toward the staircase.
“Brielle!””
My sister appeared at the top.
“What?””
“Come downstairs.””
Brielle walked into the living room wearing an oversized sweatshirt. When she noticed the paperwork, she stopped.
Dad pointed to the sofa.
“Sit.””
She remained standing.
“I'm not a child.””
“Then stop behaving like one.””
Brielle's eyes filled with tears.
Vanessa immediately stepped beside her.
“Don't speak to her like that.””
Dad ignored her.
“Where is the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars?””
Brielle looked down.
“It's in an account.””
“Which account?””
“Mine.””
“Is the money still there?””
She hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
Dad took a breath.
“How much is left?””
“About eighty thousand.””
I felt sick.
“What happened to the rest?””
Brielle looked at me.
“It's none of your business.””
I laughed once.
“It's money from the attempted sale of my property.””
“You weren't using the building!””
“That doesn't make it yours.””
Vanessa stepped between us.
“Brielle invested in the business. The money went toward inventory, renovations, and deposits.””
Dad picked up his phone.
“Then produce the invoices.””
Vanessa's face tightened.
“We don't have everything organized.””
“Then you'll have time to organize it while the bank investigates.””
Brielle suddenly burst into tears.
“Mom said the building would be mine!””
The room went silent.
I looked at her.
“What?””
She wiped her cheeks.
“She told me Grandma had promised it to me. She said you only had some education money.””
Dad turned toward Vanessa.
“You told Brielle the property belonged to her?””
Vanessa looked away.
“I was trying to avoid conflict.””
I stepped closer.
“You told me I wasn't part of the family's future.””
My mother's eyes flashed.
“Because you never showed interest in business!””
“I was eighteen!””
“You were always drawing, hiding in your room, working at that little bakery. Brielle wanted something bigger.””
I stared at her.
“So you decided she deserved my inheritance?””
Vanessa lifted her chin.
“I decided to give her an opportunity.””
“With money that wasn't yours.””
She looked at me.
“You have more than enough.””
Those words hit harder than I expected.
My grandmother had left me the money because she wanted me to be independent.
My mother saw it as something that could be redistributed according to her preferences.
Dad stepped forward.
“Vanessa, you need to stop.””
She looked at him.
“Or what?””
“Or this marriage is going to have a very different conversation tomorrow.””
For a moment, she seemed unable to understand him.
Then she laughed bitterly.
“You're threatening divorce over a business?””
“No. I'm responding to years of dishonesty.””
She grabbed her handbag.
“You'll regret this.””
She walked out of the living room.
Brielle followed her.
But before reaching the staircase, she turned toward me.
“You've taken everything from me.””
I looked at her.
“No, Brielle. I never had anything that belonged to you.””
That night, I received an email from Margaret.
The subject line read:
*URGENT — ADDITIONAL DOCUMENTS RECEIVED.*
I opened it.
There were three attachments.
The first was a bank transfer record.
The second was a copy of the proposed purchase agreement.
The third was an email exchange between Vanessa and Melissa.
I opened the email.
My mother's message was dated four months earlier.
Once the building is transferred, we can settle the remaining balance. Nia won't know until everything is completed.
Melissa had replied:
What if she finds out?
Vanessa's response was only one sentence.
She never questions anything. That's why this will work.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
I wasn't sure what hurt more.
The plan itself.
Or the fact that my mother had counted on me being too quiet to defend myself.
Another message appeared.
This one was from Margaret.
There is also an issue involving the buyer. He has requested a meeting with you personally.
I typed back.
Why?
Her response came immediately.
Because he believes he has already paid for the building, and he has information about who introduced him to your mother.
A final message followed.
His name is Daniel Whitmore.
I searched the name.
A photograph appeared.
A wealthy property developer.
And beneath his photograph was the name of his business partner.
*Melissa Carter.*
My aunt wasn't simply receiving money.
May you like
She was connected to the buyer.
And suddenly, the boutique made a lot less sense.
