Chapter 4 - The House of Cards
Joselyn stared at the screen for a long, painful minute. Her eyes scanned the document, tracing the forged signature, the fake power-of-attorney clause, and the name Vance Media Holdings.
"He told me Vance Media Holdings was an investment fund his uncle set up," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "He said... he said he was going to use it to buy us a house after the wedding."
"He was going to use my stolen $40,000 deposit and a $150,000 bank loan guaranteed by my personal assets," I corrected her firmly. "Joselyn, Derek isn't building a future for you. He is building a liquid capital stash while isolating you from the only person who can audit his books."
"No... no, Mom, you don't understand," she stammered, tears finally pooling in her eyes as her carefully constructed reality began to fracture. "He loves me. He treats me like a princess. He just... he gets stressed about business!"
"A man who loves you does not steal from your mother," I said, taking her hand across the table. Her fingers were ice-cold. "A man who loves you does not force you to send a twelve-word text disinviting the only parent you have left while he uses her credit line behind your back."
Joselyn pulled her hand back slightly, torn between years of maternal trust and months of psychological conditioning by her fiancé.
"I... I have to ask him about this," she whispered, grabbing her purse. "There has to be an explanation. Maybe... maybe his assistant filled out the wrong form. Maybe it’s a misunderstanding!"
"If you tell him we talked, Joselyn, he will accelerate his timeline," I warned her, standing up as she scrambled to her feet. "He currently has access to your personal checking account, doesn't he?"
Joselyn froze, her hand resting on the back of her chair. "We opened a joint account last month..."
"How much money is in that account?"
"Thirty thousand dollars," she admitted, her voice trembling. "My entire life savings from my design job..."
I pressed my lips together, closing my eyes for a brief moment as a wave of fierce, maternal instinct overwhelmed my anger. "Go to your bank right now, Joselyn. Separate your funds before you confront him. If you give him a warning, that money will vanish before dinner."
Joselyn looked at me, her eyes wide with terror. For the first time in two years, I didn't see the arrogant, distant daughter who looked down on my hard work. I saw my frightened girl, standing on the edge of a cliff she had been led to by a predator.
May you like
"Mom," she choked out, a tear spilling over her cheek. "What do I do?"
"You step behind me," I said quietly. "And you watch how your mother handles a thief."
