Chapter 4: The Photograph That Exposed Seven Years of Lies
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
The photograph lay on the pavement between my boots.
Naomi sat across from Xavier in an expensive restaurant, wearing the same emerald-green dress I'd bought her for her twenty-ninth birthday. A bottle of champagne stood beside them. Both were smiling.
But it wasn't the photograph that made my stomach turn.
It was the handwritten note.
Once Cedric signs away the rights, we split everything fifty-fifty.
And beneath it was Naomi's signature.
Six months earlier.
I picked up the photograph.
"Naomi.""
She looked at me.
Her face had gone completely white.
"Tell me this isn't real.""
She reached for the photograph.
I pulled it away.
"Cedric, please.""
"Six months ago?""
She glanced at Xavier.
He rubbed his forehead.
"Don't jump to conclusions.""
I laughed bitterly.
"That's your defense?""
Xavier stepped toward me.
"Give me the photograph.""
"No.""
"Cedric, I'm warning you.""
I looked at him.
"You've already forged my signature, stolen my documents, and tried to negotiate away something you don't own. What exactly do you think you're going to warn me about?""
His jaw tightened.
Naomi stepped between us.
"Can we please talk without shouting?""
I stared at her.
"You signed an agreement to split the money from my invention.""
Her eyes filled.
"It wasn't what you think.""
"Then tell me what it was.""
She looked down.
Xavier answered for her.
"It was a preliminary business discussion. Nothing more.""
I turned toward him.
"Did I authorize it?""
He said nothing.
"Did I?""
"No," he finally admitted.
"But you weren't exactly making progress on your own.""
I shook my head.
"So you decided to take over?""
"We were going to bring you in.""
"After signing away my rights?""
Xavier's expression hardened.
"Listen carefully. You have a prototype. I have business connections.
Naomi has the academic credibility. We were going to turn your little garage project into something valuable.""
I looked at Naomi.
"And you agreed?""
She wiped her cheek.
"I thought it was an opportunity.""
"For whom?""
"For all of us.""
I held up the photograph.
"Where was I in this arrangement?""
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
That was enough.
I placed the photograph inside my jacket.
"Get your things.""
"Cedric—"
"Now.""
Xavier laughed.
"You can't tell her what to do.""
I turned toward him.
"She's collecting her belongings from my apartment. I can absolutely tell both of you to leave.""
Naomi stared at me.
"Our apartment.""
I shook my head.
"No. You made that distinction very clear at graduation.""
She flinched.
For a moment, I saw the woman who used to sit beside me on the garage floor, eating takeout noodles while I explained my designs.
Then she disappeared behind a familiar expression of irritation.
"You're being cruel.""
I almost smiled.
"You're right. I should have considered your feelings before you tried to sell my invention behind my back.""
Xavier grabbed the cardboard box.
"Come on, Naomi. We're wasting time.""
But she didn't move.
Instead, she looked at me.
"Cedric, I made a mistake.""
I stared at her.
"Which one?""
"What?""
"Which mistake are you apologizing for? Rejecting my proposal? Moving in with Xavier?
Signing that document? Or helping him access my files?""
Her lips trembled.
"I never wanted to hurt you.""
"Then you should have stopped when you had the chance.""
She lowered her head.
I opened the apartment door and stepped aside.
"Take everything. I don't want anything that reminds me of this.""
Naomi walked inside.
Xavier followed her.
As they passed me, he leaned close enough for me to smell his expensive cologne.
"This isn't over.""
I looked at him.
"It should have been over six months ago.""
He smirked.
"You don't know what you're dealing with.""
I didn't answer.
I simply watched him walk inside.
An hour later, the apartment was empty.
Naomi had taken her clothes, books, jewelry, and the framed photographs from our bedroom.
She left behind a small ceramic bowl we'd bought during our first vacation together.
I found it on the kitchen counter.
There was a tiny crack along its edge.
I remembered Naomi laughing when she accidentally dropped it in the hotel bathroom.
She'd insisted on keeping it because she said imperfect things had character.
I picked it up.
Then I placed it in the trash.
My phone rang.
Evelyn Brooks.
"Mr. Walls, I've reviewed the material you sent.""
"Is it enough?""
"Enough to take immediate action. But I need you to understand something.""
"What?""
"The photograph could be extremely important. It suggests a planned arrangement involving your intellectual property. However, we need the original image and its source.""
"I have the photograph.""
"Who gave it to you?""
I looked at the empty apartment.
"It was inside Naomi's belongings.""
Evelyn paused.
"That's interesting.""
"Why?""
"Because someone may have kept a record of the arrangement deliberately.""
I frowned.
"You think she intended me to find it?""
"I don't know. But I would like to examine the remaining documents in that box before you discard anything.""
I walked toward the trash container where Naomi had left the cardboard packaging.
"There's nothing else.""
"Are you certain?""
I remembered the photographs.
There had been several.
I went back to the pile and searched through the discarded papers.
Under an old university folder, I found a folded sheet.
It was a bank transfer confirmation.
My name appeared at the top.
So did Naomi's.
The transaction was dated six months earlier.
I read the amount.
$12,500.
The recipient was a consulting company called Grant Strategic Ventures.
I stared at it.
"Ms. Brooks?""
"Yes?""
"I found a bank transfer.""
"Whose account?""
"Naomi's.""
"And the recipient?""
"Grant Strategic Ventures.""
Evelyn went quiet.
"Mr. Walls, photograph that document immediately. Do not alter it.""
I did.
Then I looked at the transaction description.
*Engineering development advance.*
I had never given Naomi permission to use my money for Xavier's company.
In fact, I hadn't even known the company existed.
"Where did she get the money?"" I asked.
Evelyn answered carefully.
"That's something we need to establish.""
I looked at the transfer date again.
Six months earlier.
Around the same time Naomi had told me she needed money for a research conference in Boston.
I'd transferred her twelve thousand five hundred dollars from my savings.
She had hugged me that night.
She'd said I was the reason she could keep going.
Now I understood why she had been so affectionate.
I sat down on the floor.
For the first time since graduation, I cried.
Not because she had rejected me.
Because I was beginning to understand how long she had been lying.
The following morning, Evelyn arrived at my workshop with a junior associate.
She wore a charcoal suit and carried a leather briefcase.
"Mr. Walls," she greeted me.
"Let's go through everything.""
I showed her the prototype, the original drawings, the university records, and the documents I'd recovered.
She examined each one carefully.
After nearly an hour, she closed her notebook.
"There's something I want you to consider.""
"What?""
"Your former partner may have had access to your research, but access alone doesn't establish ownership. Your development records are quite strong.""
"That's good, right?""
"Very good. But the alleged agreement is more concerning.""
She placed a copy of the forged licensing document on my workbench.
"Someone has attempted to represent themselves as your authorized agent.""
"Xavier.""
"Possibly. But we need to determine whether anyone else participated.""
I thought of Naomi's signature on the photograph.
"She did.""
Evelyn studied my face.
"Do you have proof she knew the document was false?""
"The photograph. The bank transfer. Her access to my files.""
"Those are important leads. We still need to establish what she actually did.""
I nodded.
Evelyn's associate took several photographs of the documents.
Then she asked a question.
"Mr. Walls, did you ever discuss selling the patent with Naomi?""
"No.""
"Did you ever authorize her to negotiate on your behalf?""
"Never.""
"Did you ever promise her a percentage of future earnings?""
I shook my head.
"Never.""
Evelyn closed her briefcase.
"Then we'll make that position clear.""
My phone buzzed.
An email from Northstar Mobility.
*URGENT: REQUEST FOR CLARIFICATION REGARDING THIRD-PARTY REPRESENTATION.*
I opened it.
The message included an attachment.
It was a scanned contract.
At the bottom, beneath a clause granting Xavier negotiating authority, was a second signature.
Naomi Carter.
But the contract contained something even worse.
It listed the amount Xavier expected to receive.
Ten percent of the acquisition price.
And Naomi?
Forty percent.
I stared at the screen.
Evelyn leaned closer.
"What is it?""
I turned the laptop toward her.
She read the document.
Her expression became cold.
"Well," she said quietly.
"I think we just found our next question.""
"What question?""
She pointed to a paragraph in the contract.
"Why was Naomi promised forty percent of the money if she was supposedly only helping with business introductions?""
I didn't answer.
Because the truth was already becoming painfully obvious.
She hadn't simply wanted a better life.
She had planned to build it with the one thing I had spent six years creating.
And she had done it while sleeping beside me.
That evening, another message arrived.
This time, it wasn't from Northstar.
It was from Naomi.
*Naomi:* I know you're angry. Please let me explain everything.
A second message followed.
*Naomi:* Xavier isn't who you think he is.
I stared at the screen.
Then another notification appeared.
*Naomi:* He has been lying to me too.
I almost laughed.
But before I could respond, a final message came through.
*Naomi:* Cedric, there's something about your father's shop that you don't know.
My fingers went cold.
I called her immediately.
She answered after two rings.
"Hello?""
"What does my father's shop have to do with this?""
She took a shaky breath.
"Xavier told me something. Something about the original patent.""
"What patent?""
"The one your father filed years ago.""
I stood up so quickly that my chair scraped against the concrete floor.
"My father never filed a patent.""
Naomi whispered.
"That's what I thought.""
Then she said something that changed the entire case.
"Someone registered a similar design under another person's name before you ever built your prototype.""
May you like
And when I asked who, she answered:
"Your father's former business partner.""
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