Chapter 5: The Name Hidden in the Contract
Nia did not move.
She stood at the top of the stairs, one hand gripping the banister, listening to the woman who had raised her speak about her life as though it were a problem to be managed.
Who her father really was.
Nia had grown up believing her father died before she was born.
That was the story Elaine had told her, and Vanessa had never corrected it.
There were no photographs of him in the house. No birthday cards. No relatives who visited and spoke about him.
Whenever Nia asked, Vanessa would say, "Your mother chose not to talk about him.""
Now Nia wondered whether that had ever been true.
Downstairs, Vanessa lowered her voice.
"I told you, the contract has to be destroyed before the competition. If Margaret Bell gets involved, she could reopen everything.""
Nia stepped backward.
The floorboard creaked.
Vanessa stopped speaking.
"Who is there?""
Nia hurried into her bedroom and closed the door without making a sound.
She locked it.
Then she stood in the middle of the room, struggling to breathe.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from Margaret appeared.
I reviewed the photographs you sent. The notebook confirms what I suspected. I am arranging for a legal adviser to contact you.
Nia typed with trembling fingers.
I heard Vanessa talking about an original contract. She said I must never learn who my father really was.
The response came seconds later.
Do you know the name Daniel Carter?
Nia stared at the screen.
She had seen that name before.
Not on a birth certificate. Not in a family photograph.
In her mother's notebook.
She flipped through the pages until she found the entry.
*August 9 — Daniel says he will return after the New York meeting. He wants to see the finished collection. I hope he keeps his promise.*
Nia's chest tightened.
She sent a photograph of the page.
Margaret called immediately.
"Where did you find that?""
"In my mother's notebook. Who is Daniel?""
Margaret was quiet for several seconds.
"Daniel Carter was your father's name.""
Nia sat down on the edge of the bed.
"My father?""
"Yes.""
"But Vanessa told me he died before I was born.""
"That isn't what I knew.""
Nia pressed the phone against her ear.
"Then where is he?""
"I don't know. He disappeared from the business world shortly before Elaine became ill. There were rumors that he had gone overseas, but I never confirmed them.""
Nia's thoughts raced.
"Was he involved in the fashion company?""
"He was an investor and a business adviser. He helped Elaine and Vanessa secure their first studio. He was also the person who introduced them to several potential partners.""
Nia looked at the photograph of her mother and Vanessa.
"Why would Vanessa hide him from me?""
"That is what we need to find out.""
A knock sounded at Nia's door.
"Nia," Vanessa called.
"Come downstairs. We need to talk.""
Nia lowered her voice.
"She's outside.""
"Do not tell her what you found," Margaret warned.
"And don't hand over the notebook.""
Nia ended the call.
"What do you want?"" she asked through the door.
"I have something for you.""
Nia hesitated before unlocking it.
Vanessa stood in the hallway holding a small black folder.
Her expression was calm, but her eyes moved immediately toward the sewing table.
"Is that the new dress?""
"Yes.""
"May I see it?""
"No.""
Vanessa's jaw tightened.
"You have become incredibly rude.""
"You took my first dress.""
"And I apologized.""
"No, you didn't.""
Vanessa stepped into the room anyway.
She glanced at the phoenix gown, then at the box on the table.
"Your mother left a great deal of confusion behind her," she said.
"I am trying to protect you from it.""
Nia crossed her arms.
"Then tell me the truth.""
Vanessa looked at her.
"About what?""
"My father.""
For the first time, the polished mask slipped completely.
Her eyes widened.
"Where did you hear that name?""
Nia said nothing.
Vanessa placed the folder on the table.
"Your mother made choices that hurt people. I spent years trying to repair the damage. I kept this family together when she could no longer do it.""
"You slapped me because I wouldn't give Brianna my dress.""
"That has nothing to do with your father.""
"It has everything to do with you deciding that I don't deserve anything of my own.""
Vanessa's face hardened.
"You have no idea how much I sacrificed for you.""
"Then explain it.""
Vanessa stared at Nia for a long moment.
Then she opened the folder.
Inside were photocopies of old business documents, faded photographs, and a legal agreement bearing Elaine's signature.
Nia reached for the papers.
Vanessa pulled them back.
"Not so fast.""
"What is it?""
"An agreement your mother signed before she died. It concerns the old business and the rights to her designs.""
"Why are you showing me this now?""
"Because you're about to make a serious mistake by entering a competition with work that may not legally belong to you.""
Nia's stomach dropped.
"The phoenix design is my mother's.""
"That doesn't mean you own it.""
"She left it to me.""
"Did she leave a will saying so?""
Nia hesitated.
Vanessa's expression softened, but there was no kindness in it.
"Your mother was talented, Nia. But talent doesn't erase contracts. If you submit a design that belongs to someone else, the competition could disqualify you. You could damage your future before it even begins.""
Nia looked at the documents.
The top page contained several paragraphs of legal language. Her mother's signature appeared at the bottom.
But the date was missing from the photocopy.
"Why didn't you tell me about this before?""
"Because I hoped you would choose a sensible path. Now you're contacting people who have no interest in protecting you.""
"Margaret Bell wants to help me.""
Vanessa's eyes flashed.
"Margaret Bell wants to control you.""
"She said you stole my mother's designs.""
Vanessa laughed, but the sound was brittle.
"Your mother told you that?""
"I read her notebook.""
The laughter stopped.
For several seconds, neither woman spoke.
Then Vanessa closed the folder.
"Give me the notebook.""
"No.""
"That isn't a request.""
Nia stepped between Vanessa and the sewing table.
"You can't take it.""
Vanessa's voice dropped.
"You are making a terrible mistake.""
"Maybe. But it's mine to make.""
Vanessa stared at her, breathing through her nose.
Then she turned toward the door.
"Fine. Keep your little notebook. But tomorrow, when the competition judges ask where your design came from, don't expect me to rescue you.""
She left the room and shut the door hard enough to rattle the frame.
Nia waited until her footsteps faded.
Then she examined the documents Vanessa had left behind.
The folder was still on the table.
Her stepmother had forgotten it.
Nia opened it carefully.
The first document was an agreement between Bell & Carter Design Studio and an investment company. The second was a list of original designs assigned to the studio.
The third was a photocopy of a handwritten letter.
At the bottom, her mother had written:
I will not surrender my daughter's inheritance to someone who has already stolen enough.
Nia read it twice.
Then she noticed a name on the attached contract.
*Daniel Carter — Beneficial Owner.*
Beneath it was another line.
*Design Rights and Personal Trust: To be transferred to Nia Carter upon her eighteenth birthday, subject to verification of parentage.*
Nia's heart pounded.
Her mother had left her something more than a sketch.
A trust.
A legal inheritance.
And Vanessa knew about it.
At the bottom of the page was a signature.
Daniel Carter.
Beside it, in smaller handwriting, was a note.
Original held by Daniel Carter's solicitor. Contact details enclosed.
Nia searched the folder.
The contact details had been cut out.
Someone had deliberately removed them.
She photographed every remaining page and sent the images to Margaret.
Then she put the folder back exactly where she had found it.
At 8:42 p.m., her phone rang.
It was Margaret.
"I've seen the documents," she said.
"Nia, this changes everything.""
"What does the trust mean?""
"It means your mother and father may have arranged for you to inherit the design rights and a portion of the original business assets when you turn eighteen. But the original agreement must be verified.""
"Can Vanessa stop me?""
"She can try. But if the document is genuine, she may have far less control than she believes.""
Nia glanced toward the hallway.
"Do you think she stole the designs?""
"I think the evidence deserves a proper investigation.""
"What about my father?""
"We need to locate the original contract. I know someone who may be able to help.""
Nia's voice cracked.
"I just want to know why everyone lied to me.""
Margaret softened.
"Then we will find the truth. But tomorrow, you have a competition to enter. Focus on the gown. Let the adults handle the paperwork.""
Nia looked at the phoenix dress.
Its silver layers caught the light from the desk lamp.
"All right.""
"One more thing," Margaret said.
"I have arranged for my former colleague, Olivia Grant, to attend the preliminary judging. She has agreed to examine your work privately before the final showcase.""
Nia's eyes widened.
"Really?""
"Really. She will be looking for craftsmanship, originality, and whether you understand your own design. Don't try to impress her with a story. Let the garment speak.""
Nia smiled.
"I can do that.""
The call ended.
For the first time in days, she allowed herself to imagine walking onto the competition floor.
She pictured the bright lights, the rows of mannequins, the judges examining every seam.
She imagined the phoenix spreading its wings beneath the spotlight.
And she imagined her mother watching.
Nia worked until midnight, reinforcing the bodice and hand-stitching the final silver details.
At 1:13 a.m., she completed the last seam.
She stepped back from the mannequin.
The gown was finished.
Not perfect, but finished.
Nia sat on the floor and cried quietly, exhausted by everything she had carried.
When she finally stood, she noticed a new message on her phone.
It came from an unknown number.
*I am Daniel Carter. Margaret Bell says you have questions about your mother.*
Nia's heart stopped.
A second message arrived.
*Do not trust the documents Vanessa showed you. The original contract says something very different.*
Then a third.
*I will be at the Young American Couture Competition tomorrow. Come alone, and I will tell you why your mother hid the truth about me.*
Nia stared at the screen.
She had spent her entire life believing her father was dead.
Now, on the eve of the competition that could change everything, he was asking to meet her.
May you like
And downstairs, Vanessa was already making a phone call of her own.
"Tomorrow morning," she whispered, "we make sure that girl never gets on that stage.""
