Chapter 3: The Woman Who Wanted My Company
By Wednesday morning, I had stopped pretending everything was normal.
I still ate breakfast with Linda.
I still thanked her when she brought me coffee.
I still allowed Jasmine to walk past me without asking why she had been awake until three in the morning.
But I was watching.
And I was learning.
The first thing I learned was that Jasmine had stopped paying for anything herself.
The second was that Linda had become unusually interested in my medical appointments.
The third was that both women believed I was too distracted by my recovery to notice what was happening around me.
They were wrong.
At 9:30, Samuel arrived at my office.
He carried two briefcases and wore the same gray suit he had worn to my company's opening ceremony twenty-two years earlier.
He looked at my wheelchair, then at me.
“Good morning, Marcus.””
“Samuel.””
He placed the briefcases on the desk.
“I brought everything.””
I gestured toward the chair.
“Sit down.””
He opened the first briefcase.
Inside were copies of company registrations, banking records, property agreements, and correspondence.
He arranged them in neat piles.
“Let's start with the ownership transfer.””
He pointed to a document.
“According to this filing, Linda became the controlling shareholder of Carter Construction Group three weeks after your accident.””
“I didn't sign it.””
“I believe you.””
“Can you prove it?””
Samuel removed a second folder.
“I had your signature compared with the one on the transfer documents. I also requested the original submission records.””
He slid a printed report toward me.
“The signature doesn't match.””
I examined the page.
“Then how was it accepted?””
“Because the application included a notarized authorization.””
“Whose?””
Samuel looked directly at me.
“Richard Coleman's.””
I leaned back.
“Richard notarized my signature?””
“Apparently.””
“But he wasn't there.””
“That's the problem.””
Samuel opened another folder.
“The notarial journal records a meeting at your home on March 14. According to the entry, you personally appeared before him and signed the documents.””
I remembered March 14.
I had been in a rehabilitation hospital three hours away.
I looked at Samuel.
“Can we prove I was there?””
“I already obtained the hospital records. You were admitted from March 9 through March 21.””
He paused.
“Marcus, this is serious.””
I laughed bitterly.
“I've noticed.””
Samuel folded his hands.
“There's more.””
Of course there was.
He turned to the next document.
“The property sale is structured through a holding company. The buyer is offering approximately fifty-two percent of the property's current market value.””
“Why?””
“Because the company would be acquiring it from a controlling shareholder who claims to have full authority to sell.””
“And who receives the difference?””
Samuel removed a final sheet.
“Three accounts. One belongs to Linda. One belongs to Jasmine. The third belongs to an entity connected to Richard Coleman.””
I stared at the page.
The numbers were precise.
Not rumors.
Not assumptions.
Money had been moving out of my business while I lay in a hospital bed trying to move my legs.
“How much has already been taken?””
Samuel gave me a figure.
I felt my throat tighten.
“That's more than half a million dollars.””
“That's what we can identify so far.””
I looked out the window.
Construction cranes moved slowly across the skyline.
One of those buildings was mine.
I had signed the contract to build it when Jasmine was still in high school.
I remembered bringing her to the site one Saturday.
She had worn a pink jacket and complained about the dust.
I had bought her ice cream afterward.
She had asked whether she could work for me one day.
I had told her she could do anything she wanted.
Now she was trying to sell the company.
“Samuel?””
“Yes?””
“Can they finish the sale?””
“Not if we act quickly.””
I nodded.
“Then stop it.””
He closed the folder.
“There's something else I need to ask.””
“What?””
“Do you want to report this immediately?””
I looked down at my hands.
For a moment, I thought about the dinner table.
Jasmine's words.
Linda passing her the potatoes.
The way everyone had looked away.
Then I remembered the fire.
I remembered dragging Jasmine across the wet road while the car burned behind us.
I remembered waking in the hospital and asking whether she was alive before asking whether I could feel my legs.
I had not expected gratitude.
But I had never imagined betrayal.
“Not yet,” I said.
Samuel frowned.
“Why?””
“Because I want to know how far they've gone.””
“And if they attempt another transfer?””
“Then I want to know about it before they do.””
Samuel studied me.
“You understand that this could become a criminal matter?””
“Yes.””
“Your wife could be implicated.””
I looked at the wedding photograph on my desk.
Linda and I standing beneath white flowers, smiling as though nothing in the world could ever separate us.
“I understand.””
Samuel packed the documents.
“Then I'll prepare the necessary legal steps. But Marcus, don't sign anything they bring you.””
“I won't.””
He stood.
At the door, he turned back.
“One more thing. Have you told Linda about your recovery?””
I shook my head.
“Not yet.””
“Keep it that way until we understand what's happening.””
I looked at him.
“I was planning to surprise her.””
Samuel's expression softened.
“Perhaps the surprise will be better served elsewhere.””
At lunchtime, Jasmine appeared in my study.
She wore a cream-colored designer coat and carried a handbag I recognized from a magazine advertisement.
She didn't knock.
“Marcus, I need to talk to you.””
I closed the company file.
“What's wrong?””
She sighed.
“Mom says you've been difficult lately.””
“Does she?””
“Yes. She says you're questioning everything.””
I looked at her.
“Is that a problem?””
“It's exhausting.””
She walked to the bookshelf and examined a photograph of the two of us at her college graduation.
I remembered that day.
I had given her a car afterward.
She had hugged me in the parking lot and said she would never forget what I had done for her.
I wondered whether she remembered that conversation.
“Jasmine, what do you want?””
She turned around.
“I need you to sign some documents.””
“What documents?””
“Company stuff.””
“What company stuff?””
She rolled her eyes.
“Why do you always make things difficult?””
“Because I like knowing what I'm signing.””
She crossed her arms.
“Mom explained everything.””
“Then you should have no trouble explaining it to me.””
Her jaw tightened.
“It's just a restructuring agreement. Richard says it will make things easier.””
“Easier for whom?””
“For everyone!””
I folded my hands.
“Jasmine, I'm still the owner of that company.””
She laughed.
“Not really. Mom has been handling everything.””
“Handling everything isn't the same as owning everything.””
Her face changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
“What's that supposed to mean?””
“Nothing. Leave the documents here. I'll have my attorney review them.””
Jasmine stared at me.
“Your attorney?””
“Yes.””
“Why would you need an attorney? Richard already prepared everything.””
“Then he won't mind another attorney reviewing it.””
She stepped closer.
“Marcus, you're making Mom very upset.””
I looked directly at her.
“Is that what worries you?””
“What?””
“That your mother is upset?””
Jasmine shook her head.
“You're impossible.””
She picked up her handbag and walked toward the door.
Then she stopped.
“You know, Mom was right about something.””
I waited.
“You really do make everything about yourself.””
I said nothing.
She left.
A moment later, I heard her speaking on the phone in the hallway.
“Mom, he won't sign it.””
A pause.
“I know. I told you.””
Another pause.
Then her voice dropped.
“What if he finds out about the other account?””
I stopped breathing for a moment.
“Jasmine,” Linda said from somewhere nearby, “not on the phone.””
The footsteps moved away.
I reached for my phone.
Samuel answered on the second ring.
“Marcus?””
“There's another account.””
“What?””
“I just heard Jasmine mention it.””
Samuel was silent.
“Did she give you a name?””
“No. But I want you to find every account connected to that holding company.””
“I'll start immediately.””
That afternoon, Daniel called.
“Marcus, how are you feeling?””
“Better than yesterday.””
“Good. I have an update.””
I smiled.
“Tell me.””
“Your balance has improved. Tomorrow, I'd like to try standing without the bars.””
I looked at my legs.
“Are you sure?””
“I wouldn't suggest it if I weren't.””
I swallowed.
“How long do you think before I can take independent steps?””
“That's difficult to predict. But you're progressing faster than expected.””
I closed my eyes.
“Daniel, I need to tell you something.””
“Go ahead.””
“My family doesn't know.””
“About what?””
“My progress.””
There was a pause.
“Why not?””
I looked toward the hallway.
“Because I'm beginning to think they would prefer I stayed exactly where I am.””
Daniel didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, “Marcus, your recovery belongs to you. You don't owe anyone a performance.””
I smiled faintly.
“That's what I'm beginning to understand.””
At 7:00 that evening, Linda announced that she had invited Richard Coleman to dinner.
I was sitting in the living room when she came downstairs wearing a dark blue dress.
“Richard will be here at seven-thirty,” she said.
“I hope that's okay.””
I looked at her.
“Of course.””
She seemed surprised by my answer.
“Really?””
“Why wouldn't it be?””
She smiled.
“I just thought you might prefer a quiet evening.””
“I'm always happy to see an old friend.””
Her expression flickered.
Then she walked toward the dining room.
At 7:32, the doorbell rang.
Richard entered carrying a bottle of expensive wine.
He was fifty-six, with silver hair, polished shoes, and the kind of smile that made people believe he was trustworthy.
“Marcus!””
He approached me and extended his hand.
“It's good to see you.””
I shook it.
“Richard.””
He glanced at my wheelchair.
“How's the recovery coming?””
“Slowly.””
“Terrible business, that accident.””
“Yes. Terrible.””
He placed the wine on the table.
Linda appeared from the kitchen.
“Richard, you're early.””
“Traffic was surprisingly light.””
They exchanged a look.
It lasted less than a second.
But I noticed.
Dinner was served at eight.
Jasmine joined us halfway through the meal, complaining about a meeting with her financial adviser.
Richard listened patiently.
Then he turned toward me.
“Marcus, Linda tells me you've been concerned about the company restructuring.””
“I have.””
He smiled.
“There's really nothing to worry about. The paperwork simply gives Linda the authority to keep things running smoothly while you focus on your health.””
“That's interesting.””
“Why?””
“Because I never authorized a transfer of ownership.””
Richard placed his fork down.
“Of course you did.””
“I don't remember.””
“You were recovering. You may have forgotten the details.””
“Perhaps.””
He nodded.
“That's why these arrangements are so useful. They protect families during difficult circumstances.””
I looked at him.
“Do they also allow someone to sell a property without the owner's knowledge?””
The fork in Linda's hand stopped.
Jasmine looked up.
Richard's smile remained, but his eyes changed.
“What property?””
I took a sip of water.
“The commercial property on Westbridge Avenue.””
Richard glanced at Linda.
Then at Jasmine.
“That's a business matter.””
“I'm the business owner.””
Linda leaned forward.
“Marcus, this isn't the time.””
I turned toward her.
“Why not?””
“Because Richard is our guest.””
Richard cleared his throat.
“Perhaps we should discuss this privately.””
“Certainly,” I said.
“But first, I'd like to ask one question.””
I looked directly at him.
“On March 14, where were you?””
He blinked.
“What?””
“You notarized a document stating that I appeared before you and signed a company transfer.””
Richard's face had gone pale.
“That was a routine matter.””
“I was in a hospital three hours away.””
Linda put down her glass.
“Marcus, stop.””
I ignored her.
“Richard, did you personally witness me sign that document?””
He opened his mouth.
No sound came out.
Jasmine pushed her chair backward.
“This is ridiculous.””
I looked at her.
“Is it?””
She stood.
“I'm leaving.””
“Sit down, Jasmine.””
Her face flushed.
“Don't tell me what to do!””
I held her gaze.
“Then don't ask me to sign documents you refuse to explain.””
Richard rose slowly.
“Marcus, I think you're misunderstanding the situation.””
I smiled.
“No, Richard. I think I'm finally understanding it.””
He reached for his coat.
Linda followed him into the hallway.
Their voices were low, but the dining room was quiet enough for me to hear fragments.
“You said he wouldn't find out,” Linda whispered.
Richard replied, “I said the transfer would be processed.””
“What are we supposed to do now?””
“I'll call you tomorrow.””
The front door closed.
Linda returned.
Her face was furious.
“What have you done?””
I looked at her.
“What have I done?””
“You humiliated Richard!””
“Did I?””
“You accused him of something terrible!””
“Did I accuse him of forging my signature?””
She stared at me.
I watched her realize what she had just said.
Her lips parted.
Then she looked away.
“I'm going upstairs.””
“Linda.””
She stopped.
I spoke quietly.
“Did you know I was in the hospital on March 14?””
She didn't answer.
“Did you know I couldn't even hold a pen that week?””
Her shoulders stiffened.
“I'm tired, Marcus.””
“That's not an answer.””
She walked away.
I remained at the dining table.
The food had gone cold.
A few minutes later, my phone vibrated.
It was Samuel.
*Samuel:* I found the additional account. It's not just a private account. It's a trust established six months before your accident.
I frowned.
*Me:* Who is the beneficiary?
The response took almost a minute.
Then:
*Samuel:* Jasmine Carter. And Marcus, there's a second beneficiary listed in the original trust agreement.
I stared at the screen.
*Me:* Who?
His reply appeared.
*Samuel:* Your wife, Linda.
Then another message arrived.
*Samuel:* There's something else. The trust was funded using money from a life insurance policy taken out on you shortly before the accident.
My hands went numb.
I read the message again.
A life insurance policy.
I had never authorized one.
I typed:
*Me:* How much?
Samuel replied:
*Samuel:* Five million dollars.
I stared at the number.
Then I heard a floorboard creak behind me.
I turned.
Linda was standing in the doorway.
She was holding a glass of water.
Her eyes moved from my phone to my face.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she asked a question that made my blood run cold.
“Marcus, why are you asking Samuel about the insurance policy?””
May you like
I looked at my wife.
And suddenly, I understood that the accident might not have been the only thing my family had kept from me.
