Chapter 4 - The Best Friend Who Sold My Future|
Cassandra called seventeen times before sunset.
I didn't answer.
She sent messages.
Long ones.
Short ones.
Desperate ones.
Ren, please.
It isn't what you think.
I made a terrible mistake.
Derek and I never meant to hurt you.
I stared at the last message until I began laughing.
Never meant to hurt me.
As though betrayal became harmless when nobody intended to get caught.
My father made soup that evening.
I sat at his kitchen table wearing sweatpants and one of my old college sweatshirts.
The wedding dress hung upstairs.
I hadn't been able to look at it since taking it off.
Dad placed a bowl in front of me.
"Eat."
I smiled weakly.
"You sound like Grandma."
"Good. She was usually right."
For a few minutes, we ate in silence.
Then he asked:
"Do you want me to call an attorney?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
He studied me.
"I know this is hard."
I looked down.
"Dad, I don't even know what hurts most."
He waited.
"Derek cheating."
I swallowed.
"Cassandra helping him."
Tears filled my eyes.
"Or realizing they were both smiling at me while planning something behind my back."
Dad reached across the table.
He took my hand.
"You trusted people you loved."
I nodded.
"That doesn't make you foolish."
I looked away.
For years, Cassandra had been my person.
We met in college.
Shared a tiny apartment.
Stayed up until three in the morning talking about our futures.
When my mother died, Cassandra drove six hours to sit beside me.
She helped me plan the funeral.
She knew how much the Whitaker house meant to me.
She knew my grandmother had left it to me because she believed I'd take care of it.
And now Cassandra had apparently helped Derek use that house as collateral.
The thought made me sick.
The next morning, I met with an attorney named Rebecca Shaw.
She reviewed the documents Roman's legal team had provided.
Her expression grew increasingly serious.
"Ren, did you authorize Derek to act on your behalf regarding this property?"
"No."
"Did you sign any loan documents?"
"No."
"Did you give him access to the original deed?"
I hesitated.
"He helped me organize some paperwork last year."
Rebecca looked up.
"What paperwork?"
"Tax documents. Insurance. Repairs."
She nodded slowly.
"That may explain how he obtained certain information."
My stomach tightened.
"Can he take the house?"
"Not simply because he submitted questionable paperwork. But we need to examine every document and protect your ownership rights."
I exhaled.
"Okay."
Rebecca continued.
"There's something unusual here."
I looked up.
"What?"
"The purported authorization is dated three months ago."
I frowned.
"That was when Derek asked me to sign forms for our joint household budget."
Rebecca studied me.
"Do you have copies?"
I nodded.
"Probably."
"Find them."
My heart pounded.
Then Rebecca turned another page.
"Ren, there's also a company involved."
I frowned.
"What company?"
She slid the document toward me.
Whitaker Development Group.
My grandmother's surname.
My surname.
But I'd never established a development company.
"What is this?"
Rebecca's expression darkened.
"That's what we're investigating."
I stared.
My name.
My family's name.
Used on documents I didn't understand.
Then she asked:
"Did Cassandra ever work with Derek?"
I hesitated.
"She helped him with marketing."
"Was she paid?"
"I don't know."
Rebecca nodded.
"We'll look into it."
That afternoon, Cassandra appeared outside my father's house.
I saw her through the window.
She wore jeans and a cream sweater.
Her hair was tied back.
She looked exhausted.
For a moment, I almost opened the door.
Almost.
Then I remembered the linen closet.
I stepped outside but remained on the porch.
"Cassandra."
Her eyes filled.
"Ren."
"What do you want?"
She began crying.
"To apologize."
I folded my arms.
"For sleeping with Derek?"
She flinched.
"Yes."
"Or for helping him use my house?"
Her face drained of color.
I stared.
"You knew."
She shook her head.
"Ren, please."
I stepped forward.
"Did you know?"
Cassandra covered her mouth.
For several seconds, she couldn't answer.
Then she whispered:
"Not everything."
My stomach dropped.
"What did you know?"
She began crying harder.
"Derek said the company needed money."
"And?"
"He said he was going to use the house temporarily."
I stared.
"My house?"
Cassandra nodded.
"He said you'd understand after the wedding."
I felt something inside me go cold.
"And you believed him?"
She looked away.
I continued.
"You watched me plan our wedding while helping him use my inheritance?"
Cassandra sobbed.
"I'm sorry."
I shook my head.
"No."
She looked up.
"What?"
"You're sorry because I found out."
Her face crumpled.
I stepped backward.
"Leave."
"Ren—"
"Go."
For a moment, she looked as though she might argue.
Then she turned and walked toward her car.
Before she reached it, she stopped.
"Ren."
I looked up.
Her voice trembled.
"There's something you need to know about Derek."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
She swallowed.
"He wasn't the one who came up with the plan."
I stared.
"Then who?"
Cassandra looked toward the street.
May you like
Then whispered:
"His father."
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