Chapter 21 - MARCUS
Marcus did not know.
That was my first question.
He stared at the deed like I had.
“My father never told me.”
“Grandma never told me either.”
The property had been placed under a management company.
When Marcus and I independently searched for cheap office space years later, both of us received recommendations pointing to the same building.
Not destiny.
Planning.
Our parents had planted a bridge between us.
Why?
The answer waited inside another letter attached to the property file.
Evelyn wrote it to Marcus’s father.
IF WE FAIL, OUR CHILDREN MAY NEED EACH OTHER.
Not romantically.
Not sentimentally.
Professionally.
She believed the next generation might finish what Northstar’s honest members could not.
We had.
Without knowing.
CipherStone’s Project Northstar existed because the company itself grew from a connection Grandma and Marcus’s father created.
Marcus laughed when he understood.
“Our entire investigation is basically two dead people leaving us homework.”
I laughed too.
For the first time in months, laughter did not hurt.
But the property also created a problem.
Marcus legally owned half through a trust his father established.
He had never claimed it.
The property had since appreciated dramatically.
Worth millions.
Marcus immediately offered to transfer his half to CipherStone.
I refused.
“It’s yours.”
“We built the company together.”
“Exactly.”
He looked at me.
Something quiet passed between us.
Not romance.
Not yet.
Trust.
The kind earned after surviving suspicion.
Meanwhile, Jason’s case moved toward trial.
His attorneys attempted one final strategy.
They claimed Sydney masterminded the scheme.
Jason was merely manipulated by my family.
Sydney nearly exploded when she heard.
“Of course he did.”
Terrence, surprisingly, helped.
He had saved messages Sydney deleted years earlier.
Backups from their shared phone plan.
Those messages showed Jason recruiting Sydney.
Pressuring her.
Promising her money.
Encouraging her to deceive Terrence.
Sydney remained guilty of her own choices.
But she had not created the plan.
Jason had.
With Stephen.
With Mom.
With Dad.
With Colin.
With too many people who had assumed I would choose family over myself.
The case strengthened.
Then a woman contacted Naomi.
Her name was Rebecca Lane.
She had dated Jason four years before me.
Jason had nearly married her.
That caught my attention.
Rebecca’s story was disturbingly familiar.
She had excellent credit.
A family trust.
A fiancé named Jason.
Then unexplained financial applications appeared.
She ended the engagement after discovering he had lied about his income.
Months later, her identity was used in an attempted commercial loan.
The application failed.
She never knew who was behind it.
Jason had practiced before me.
I was not his first target.
Maybe not his second.
Investigators found two other women.
One successful architect.
One physician.
Both had dated Jason.
Both experienced suspicious financial activity afterward.
My family had believed they recruited Jason.
In reality, Stephen had already trained him.
Mom’s approach simply gave him a more valuable target.
Me.
That realization hurt differently.
Not because I loved him anymore.
Because so many moments I had called intimacy were reconnaissance.
What was your first pet?
Security question.
Where did you grow up?
Identity verification.
What bank do you use?
Casual conversation.
Where do you keep important papers?
Domestic closeness.
Every question had two meanings.
Then Rebecca mentioned something strange.
“Jason always photographed jewelry.”
My pulse changed.
“What?”
“He said he liked buying thoughtful gifts.”
“Did he photograph yours?”
“Yes.”
“Anything inherited?”
“My grandmother’s ring.”
I thought of my star pendant.
Jason’s interest had begun long before he stole it.
Maybe he had been cataloging physical keys.
Tokens.
Family objects.
Rebecca’s grandmother’s ring contained nothing.
Mine opened Northstar.
Luck.
Or information from Stephen.
Naomi asked Rebecca one final question.
“Did Jason ever mention a wedding he couldn’t wait for?”
Rebecca laughed bitterly.
“He said weddings were the easiest place to get signatures.”
The room went silent.
That sentence was devastating in its simplicity.
Jason had not invented my wedding plan with my parents.
It was his method.
Then Rebecca added.
“There was one woman before me.”
“Name?”
“I never knew.”
“What happened?”
Rebecca looked uncomfortable.
“He said she died.”
My heart sank.
Because with Jason, dead people had an unfortunate habit of not being dead.
And three days later, the woman contacted me herself.
Her message contained only one line.
May you like
JASON DIDN’T JUST STEAL FROM ME.
HE STOLE MY CHILD.
