Chapter 5: The Account
For a moment, I couldn't move.
The hallway seemed to tilt beneath my feet.
“What do you mean, an account in my name?””
Marcus held out his phone.
I took it.
The notification showed a transfer made two days earlier.
*$18,500.*
From an account labeled:
*Darius Reed — Beneficiary Trust Account*
To:
*Simone Reed — Personal*
I looked at my sister.
“You accessed my trust account?””
Simone shook her head rapidly.
“I didn't.””
The denial came too fast.
Marcus noticed it too.
“You just told us you borrowed against the house.””
“I did.””
“With his signature.””
“I didn't transfer that money.””
I looked at my mother.
“Do you know about this?””
She was crying.
“No.””
I turned back to Simone.
“Then who did?””
“I don't know.””
“You're the one who had access.””
“No.””
“Who else?””
She hesitated.
That hesitation answered before she did.
“Your fiancé?””
Marcus stiffened.
“What?””
Simone looked at him.
“I didn't say that.””
“You looked at me.””
“I was scared.””
“Of what?””
She didn't answer.
I handed the phone back to Marcus.
“What exactly happened?””
He opened his banking app.
“I found the transfer when I was checking the wedding account.””
“Why were you checking it?””
“Because the ballroom called me.””
He swallowed.
“They said the final payment was missing. I thought there was an error.””
He looked at Simone.
“Then I started checking everything.””
Simone's face went pale.
“What did you find?””
Marcus looked at her.
“Payments I don't recognize.””
“How many?””
“Twenty-three.””
The word landed like a stone.
I stared at him.
“What kind of payments?””
“Hotels. Jewelry stores. Online retailers. Cash withdrawals.””
Simone shook her head.
“No.””
Marcus continued.
“Some were from the wedding account.””
“I didn't make those.””
“Some were from the account connected to the house.””
Simone stopped breathing.
I looked at my mother.
“What account?””
She wiped her face.
“The trust.””
I felt my jaw tighten.
“How much is left?””
My mother hesitated.
“Darius…”
“How much?””
“Nothing.””
I stared at her.
“What?””
“The account is empty.””
I felt the hallway go silent.
The house.
My father's house.
Our inheritance.
Gone.
I turned to Simone.
“You emptied it?””
“No.””
“Then who did?””
“I don't know.””
Marcus stepped closer.
“Simone, there is something you haven't told us.””
She looked at him.
“What?””
“The transfers started before the wedding.””
Her expression changed.
“How far back?””
“Six months.””
I looked at my sister.
Six months.
Exactly when she had first asked me to help with the wedding.
I remembered her first phone call.
Her voice had sounded cheerful.
Excited.
She had said:
“Darius, I need a favor.””
I had thought it was about food.
Apparently, it had never been about food.
“What happened six months ago?”” I asked.
Simone shook her head.
“Nothing.””
“Don't lie.””
“I’m not.””
Marcus looked at her.
“You received a letter.””
She froze.
“What letter?””
“A letter from the bank.””
She looked at him.
“How do you know?””
“Because I found it.””
“Where?””
“In your office.””
She said nothing.
Marcus reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded envelope.
He handed it to me.
My name was printed on the front.
*DARIUS REED*
I looked at my mother.
“Why would the bank be writing to me?””
She whispered:
“Because you're a beneficiary.””
I opened it.
The letter was dated six months earlier.
It informed me that the family trust had been placed under review due to unusual withdrawals.
My signature appeared on the authorization page.
Except I had never signed it.
I looked at Simone.
“You forged this too.””
She shook her head.
“No.””
“Then who did?””
“I don't know.””
“Stop saying that.””
“I swear.””
“Who had access to my identity documents?””
She looked away.
My mother suddenly spoke.
“Your old passport.””
I turned.
“What about it?””
“It was in the house.””
“What house?””
“The old house.””
My pulse quickened.
“You said the house wasn't sold.””
“It wasn't.””
“Then who has it?””
My mother looked at Simone.
Simone whispered:
“The lender.””
I stared.
“Who?””
She didn't answer.
Marcus did.
“Blackwood Holdings.””
The name meant nothing to me.
“What is Blackwood Holdings?””
Marcus's expression was grim.
“A private lender.””
“How private?””
“Private enough that they don't advertise.””
I looked at Simone.
“How did you find them?””
She swallowed.
“Someone introduced me.””
“Who?””
She didn't answer.
Marcus looked at her.
“Simone.””
She closed her eyes.
“Your friend.””
I frowned.
“Which friend?””
“The one who helped with your business.””
I felt a chill.
“My business?””
Simone nodded.
“Ethan.””
My stomach dropped.
Ethan had been my business partner for almost a year.
He handled bookkeeping.
Invoices.
Vendor payments.
Client deposits.
And access to every digital document I had ever uploaded.
Including my driver's license.
Including my passport scan.
Including my signature.
I stepped back.
“No.””
Marcus looked at me.
“Who is Ethan?””
“My business partner.””
Simone whispered:
“He's the one who told me he could get the money.””
I stared at her.
“You've been working with Ethan?””
“For the loan.””
“When?””
“Months.””
I felt sick.
“Why would Ethan help you?””
“I don't know.””
Marcus shook his head.
“You do know.””
She looked at him.
He continued.
“He's the one who told you Darius wouldn't notice.””
I looked at Simone.
“Did he?””
She was silent.
“Did he tell you that?””
“Yes.””
“And what else did he tell you?””
She began crying again.
“That you wouldn't fight.””
My chest tightened.
“Why?””
“Because you always forgive me.””
The words were almost inaudible.
I looked at my mother.
She lowered her eyes.
For years, I'd thought forgiveness was strength.
That being the bigger person meant swallowing anger.
Now I wondered whether I had simply taught everyone around me that there would never be consequences.
I took out my phone.
I opened my business account.
There were three recent login alerts.
Two from devices I didn't recognize.
One from a location outside the city.
I called Ethan.
He didn't answer.
I called again.
Straight to voicemail.
Marcus watched me.
“What are you going to do?””
“I don't know yet.””
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?””
A man's voice came through.
Calm.
Deep.
Almost amused.
“Mr. Reed?””
“Yes.””
“You're looking for your sister's missing money.””
I froze.
“Who is this?””
“You should stop asking questions about the trust.””
My heart started pounding.
“What did you do with it?””
A soft laugh.
“You're asking the wrong question.””
“What question should I ask?””
The man paused.
Then said:
“Ask why your father put your name on that house in the first place.””
The call ended.
I stared at the screen.
Marcus stepped closer.
“Who was that?””
I didn't answer.
Because I was looking at the contract again.
At my father's name.
At the trust.
At the handwritten note from my mother.
And suddenly, I remembered something from childhood.
A locked room.
A brass key.
My father telling me never to open a certain drawer.
I had forgotten about it for twenty years.
Until that phone call.
Then my mother whispered behind me:
“Darius…”
I turned.
She was staring at my phone.
“You need to go to the house.””
I frowned.
“Why?””
Her face had gone white.
“Because there's something your father left there.””
“What?””
She looked toward Simone.
Then at Marcus.
May you like
Finally, she whispered:
“Proof that he knew this would happen.””
