Chapter 3: The Will Nobody Wanted Me to See

The bedroom door opened before I could put the document away.

Vanessa stood in the doorway.

Her gaze went straight to the paper in my hands.

For one frozen second, neither of us moved.

Then she crossed the room so quickly that I instinctively stepped backward.

“Where did you get that?””

I clutched the document against my chest.

“It was under the bedside table.””

“Give it to me.””

“Why?””

“Because it's private.””

“It's my father's will.””

“Exactly. Your father's. Not yours.””

I stared at her.

“Then why is my name on it?””

Vanessa's face went pale.

It was subtle, but unmistakable.

She recovered almost immediately, reaching for the paper.

“Give it to me, Nia.””

I stepped away.

“No. Tell me what this means.””

She shut the bedroom door behind her.

The click of the latch sounded much louder than it should have.

“Your father has made many decisions over the years,” she said.

“Some of them were made before he met me. Others were made before you were old enough to understand how the world works.””

“I'm twenty-four.””

“And yet you think finding a piece of paper makes you an expert on a family's finances.””

I glanced down at the document.

“I never asked for anything.””

“Not yet.””

Her words landed like a stone.

I slowly raised my eyes.

“What exactly are you accusing me of?””

Vanessa took a breath, then straightened the sleeve of her blouse.

“I'm telling you that your father and I have a life together. We have responsibilities. We have plans. And we don't need someone coming back into the house and creating uncertainty.””

“Someone?””

“You know what I mean.””

“No, Vanessa. I really don't.””

She held out her hand.

“Give me the document.””

I shook my head.

“I'm going to ask Dad about it.””

Her expression hardened.

“If you bring this to Marcus, you'll hurt him.””

“Why would asking him about his own will hurt him?””

“Because he trusted me to handle certain things, and you've turned a private matter into a confrontation.””

“I found a document hidden under a table!””

“You found something you weren't supposed to see.””

The words escaped her before she could stop them.

We stared at each other.

Then I asked the question that had been building inside me since I heard her conversation the day before.

“Are you afraid I'm going to inherit this house?””

Vanessa's mouth opened slightly.

For the first time, she looked less like a woman in control and more like someone who had been cornered.

“Don't flatter yourself.””

“Then explain the document.””

She stepped closer.

“Your father has a complicated estate. You don't understand the arrangements he's made.””

“Then help me understand.””

“No.””

The answer came so quickly that I almost laughed.

Vanessa pointed toward the door.

“You need to stop behaving as though every decision your father makes revolves around you.””

I looked at her for a long moment.

“Why are you so determined to keep me from talking to him?””

Her eyes flashed.

“Because you have no idea what you're doing.””

“Maybe not. But I know when someone is hiding something.””

Vanessa moved toward the door.

“Stay out of my marriage, Nia.””

I felt my face grow hot.

“I'm not in your marriage. I'm in my father's house.””

She turned back.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.””

Then she left, closing the door hard enough to rattle the picture frame on the dresser.

I sat on the bed, the document trembling between my fingers.

For several minutes, I simply stared at my name.

I'd never cared about inheriting money. My father had worked hard for everything he owned, and I'd always assumed that whatever happened to his estate would be his decision.

But this wasn't about money anymore.

Vanessa's reaction had told me that the document mattered to her.

And whatever was written on that page, she desperately didn't want me to understand it.

I found Marcus in his home office that evening.

He was sitting behind his desk, wearing reading glasses, with a stack of invoices beside his laptop.

He looked up and smiled.

“Hey, sweetheart. Come in.””

I closed the door behind me.

“Dad, I need to ask you something.””

He took off his glasses.

“That sounds serious.””

“It is.””

I placed the photocopy on his desk.

His smile disappeared.

For several seconds, he didn't touch it.

“Where did you get this?””

“Under the bedside table in the guest room.””

He picked up the document.

His eyes moved across the page, and something changed in his expression.

Not surprise exactly.

Recognition.

“Have you been talking to Vanessa?”” he asked.

“She told me I shouldn't look at it.””

He set the paper down.

“Nia, this is a private legal document.””

“I know. But why is my name on it?””

Marcus leaned back in his chair.

“Because you're my daughter.””

“That doesn't explain why Vanessa reacted like I'd discovered a crime.””

He rubbed his forehead.

“Your stepmother and I have been dealing with some complicated financial matters.””

“What kind of matters?””

“Estate planning. Property arrangements. Things adults sometimes have to work through.””

“Then why does she think I'm a threat?””

He looked at me.

“Did she say that?””

“Not in those exact words.””

I told him about the phone conversation, the argument in the hallway, and the way Vanessa had demanded the document.

I tried to keep my voice steady.

But when I repeated her warning about discovering things I would rather not know, my father went very still.

“Those were her exact words?”” he asked.

“Yes.””

He looked down at the document again.

For a moment, I thought he would explain everything.

Instead, he folded the paper carefully and placed it inside a desk drawer.

“Nia, I need you to trust me.””

I swallowed.

“I do trust you.””

“Then please don't let this become a bigger problem than it needs to be.””

I stared at him.

“Dad, I'm not trying to cause trouble. I just want to understand what's happening.””

“I know.””

“Then tell me.””

He looked tired suddenly, much older than he had that morning in the garden.

“Some decisions involve more than one person. Vanessa and I have things to settle, and I don't want you caught in the middle.””

I felt a sharp ache in my chest.

“But I already am in the middle.””

He reached across the desk and took my hand.

“I'll handle it.””

I wanted to believe him.

Again.

“Okay,” I whispered.

He squeezed my fingers.

“Go get some rest. We'll talk properly when I've had time to sort things out.””

I left his office feeling as though I'd been given an answer that contained no answers at all.

At dinner, Vanessa behaved as though nothing had happened.

She served Marcus extra vegetables, asked about his day, and complimented his shirt.

When she turned to me, her smile was perfectly composed.

“Did you have a productive afternoon?””

I put down my fork.

“Yes.””

“Good. It's important to stay busy.””

Marcus glanced between us.

“Everything all right?””

Vanessa touched his arm.

“Of course, honey.””

Then she looked directly at me.

“Nia and I had a little misunderstanding earlier, but we've sorted it out.””

I nearly choked on my water.

“We haven't sorted out anything.””

Marcus's expression tightened.

“Nia.””

I turned toward him.

“She took a document from me without explaining why, and then she—”

Vanessa placed her fork on the table.

“I was trying to protect your privacy, Marcus. I don't understand why I'm being made to sound unreasonable.””

“Because you threatened me,” I said.

Marcus looked startled.

“What?””

Vanessa's eyes widened in practiced disbelief.

“I did no such thing.””

“You told me to stay out of your marriage.””

“Because you were interfering in a private matter.””

“I asked a question about a document with my name on it!””

“Enough,” Marcus said.

The word cut through the room.

I went silent.

He looked at me first, then at Vanessa.

“I don't want this house turning into a battlefield.””

Vanessa lowered her gaze.

“Neither do I.””

She picked up her fork again.

I stared at my father, waiting for him to say something else.

He didn't.

The rest of dinner passed in strained silence.

Afterward, I helped carry the dishes into the kitchen. Vanessa followed me, waited until Marcus went upstairs, and then turned on the faucet.

“You've made a serious mistake,” she said quietly.

I placed a plate in the dishwasher.

“By asking my father a question?””

“By making him choose sides.””

“He doesn't have to choose sides. I'm his daughter.””

Vanessa turned off the water.

“And I'm his wife.””

We stood facing each other across the kitchen island.

Then she leaned forward.

“Let me explain something to you, Nia. Your father and I have built a life together. I have spent six years helping him maintain this house, manage his affairs, and plan for our future.””

“I never said you hadn't.””

“But you think you can walk back in here and claim a piece of everything because you share his last name.””

“I haven't claimed anything!””

Her palm struck the countertop.

The sharp crack made me flinch.

“Then stop digging into things that don't concern you!””

I stared at her, stunned by the sudden outburst.

For a moment, I saw something raw in her face.

Fear.

Not fear of me as a person.

Fear of what I might discover.

I lowered my voice.

“What did Dad sign, Vanessa?””

She looked at me for several seconds.

Then she smiled.

It was the coldest smile I'd ever seen.

“You should ask him what happened to your mother's house.””

My blood turned cold.

“My mother's house?””

Vanessa picked up her glass of water.

“Yes.””

“What does that have to do with anything?””

She took a slow sip.

“Everything, actually.””

I felt as though the floor had shifted beneath me.

My mother had died when I was fourteen. The small house where she'd lived before marrying Marcus had been sold shortly after her death, or so I'd always been told.

My father had explained that the sale was necessary to settle debts and cover expenses.

I'd never questioned him.

Why would I?

He was my father.

Vanessa watched the realization spread across my face.

“Ask Marcus,” she repeated.

“Ask him why he never told you the whole story.””

Then she walked out of the kitchen.

I stood there, listening to her footsteps fade down the hallway.

A few minutes later, I went upstairs and called my father.

He answered on the second ring.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?””

I gripped the phone.

“Dad, what happened to Mom's house?””

Silence.

Not the brief pause of someone trying to remember.

A long, heavy silence.

Then my father said something that made my heart pound.

“Where did you hear about that?””

“Vanessa told me to ask you.””

I heard him exhale.

“Nia, listen to me. Whatever Vanessa has said, you need to understand that your mother made some decisions before she died.””

“What decisions?””

“I'll explain everything tomorrow.””

“No, Dad. Please. I need to know now.””

Another pause.

Then his voice grew quieter.

“Your mother's house wasn't sold the way I told you it was.””

I sat down on the edge of the bed.

“What does that mean?””

My father didn't answer immediately.

When he finally spoke, his voice sounded broken.

“It means that the house was never really mine to sell.””

I stared at the wall, unable to breathe.

“Then whose was it?””

He swallowed audibly.

“Your mother's, Nia. And after she died, it should have belonged to you.””

I closed my eyes.

“What happened to it?””

My father began to answer.

But before he could finish, I heard a door slam somewhere on his end of the call.

Then Vanessa's voice rang out in the background.

“Marcus, who are you talking to?””

My father went silent.

I heard footsteps approaching him.

Then Vanessa spoke again, closer this time.

“Tell me you haven't told her about the deed.””

The call disconnected.

I stared at my phone.

May you like

My Wife Died of Cancer—But Her Doctor Knew a Secret That Could Destroy M...

For several seconds, nobody moved. The recording continued playing on my laptop, filling the living room with the sound of my wif...

The Night His Wife Tried to Push Him Down the Stairs—She Never Expected...

The wheelchair began moving before I understood what I was seeing. One moment, Julian Ashford sat beneath the ballroom chandelier...

THE GARDENER WHO CAME HOME TO DESTROY A QUEEN

The first time I saw Vanessa Vale raise her hand toward my seven-year-old daughter, I was kneeling in wet earth with a pair of pru...

On the screen, the call timer had stopped at three minutes and forty-two seconds.

And for the first time in my life, I began to wonder whether my father had been protecting me from the truth—or protecting someone else from what I had a right to know.