Chapter 4 - The Declined Offer
Nia ran upstairs so quickly her mother nearly tripped following her.
Her laptop was still on the desk beside congratulatory cards and unopened envelopes.
She entered the Hawthorne University student portal.
Password incorrect.
She tried again.
Password incorrect.
A third attempt locked the account.
“No.”
Her mother stood behind her.
“Call them.”
“It’s Sunday.”
“Look for emergency IT.”
Nia searched.
Hawthorne’s technology desk operated weekends during enrollment season.
She called.
After twelve agonizing minutes, a technician named Devon answered.
Nia verified her student identification number, birth date, mailing address, and security questions.
“I’m concerned someone accessed my account without permission.”
Keyboard clicks sounded.
“Okay,” Devon said. “I can see a password change nine days ago.”
Nia closed her eyes.
“I didn’t change it.”
“There was also a recovery-email update.”
“To what?”
“I can’t disclose the full address until identity verification is completed, but it ends in turnertraining dot com.”
Nia looked at her mother.
Malik.
“Can you tell me what was changed inside my account?”
“I’m looking.”
Silence.
Nia’s heartbeat thundered.
“You had an Honors Residential Community placement,” Devon said.
“Had?”
“It shows declined eight days ago.”
“No.”
“And there’s a notation that you intended to commute.”
“I live three hours away.”
“I understand.”
“I never declined anything.”
“I’m documenting that.”
“What about my scholarship?”
“Scholarships are handled separately. I can transfer you to enrollment.”
Nia gripped the phone.
The enrollment office confirmed something worse.
Her scholarship had not been cancelled.
But an electronic form had been submitted requesting conversion from residential enrollment to deferred enrollment for spring semester.
It had not yet been approved because a counselor had flagged the request as inconsistent with Nia’s earlier communications.
“We emailed asking you to confirm,” the counselor said.
“I never got it.”
“The email on file was recently changed.”
Nia looked at her mother again.
Ms. Bennett’s hand covered her mouth.
“Can you stop the request?”
“Yes, but we’ll need identity documentation. We also recommend filing a security report with our IT department.”
“I’ll do anything.”
“We will place a hold preventing further changes.”
Nia exhaled shakily.
Her future had not disappeared.
Not yet.
When she ended the call, she sat motionless.
Ms. Bennett placed both hands on the desk.
“This is criminal.”
Nia stared at the screen.
“He tried to make me stay.”
The affair suddenly became only part of what Malik had done.
He had not simply betrayed their relationship.
He had tried to rearrange her future without telling her.
Her mother said, “Call Jasmine.”
Nia did.
Jasmine answered on the second ring.
“Did you know?”
“What?”
“He changed my Hawthorne account.”
Silence.
“You knew.”
“I knew he talked about it.”
“He declined my housing.”
Jasmine inhaled sharply.
“He actually did it?”
“What did you think he was doing?”
“He said he was just trying to see whether you could defer.”
Nia stood.
“Stop protecting yourself with wording.”
“I’m not.”
“You knew he had my password.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he wanted me to stay.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he was accessing my college account.”
Jasmine began crying.
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing.”
“I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“Losing you.”
Nia stared at the phone.
“You helped someone sabotage my college because you were scared I’d leave?”
“I didn’t help him do that.”
“You helped him hide it.”
Jasmine had no answer.
Nia ended the call.
Her mother sat beside her.
“Nia.”
“I want everything.”
“What?”
“Every account. Every email. Every password.”
They spent the next three hours changing credentials.
Banking.
Email.
Social media.
Scholarship portals.
Cloud storage.
Her mother called Marcus Greene, the attorney who administered the Bennett Education Trust.
He returned the call immediately.
When Ms. Bennett explained the note, his tone sharpened.
“There have been inquiries.”
Nia took the phone.
“What kind?”
“An email was sent eleven days ago from what appeared to be your personal account.”
“What did it ask?”
“Whether funds could be released for a private-business investment.”
Nia closed her eyes.
“I never sent that.”
“I suspected something was unusual. The trust restricts principal distributions primarily to education-related expenses until age twenty-five.”
“So he couldn’t get it.”
“No.”
“Did whoever emailed you know the balance?”
“Yes.”
Nia’s stomach turned.
“Exactly?”
“To the dollar.”
Mr. Greene continued.
“I replied that any request would require an authenticated video meeting with you and me.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
Nia almost felt relief.
Then he added, “But there was a second email.”
Her mother leaned closer.
“What did that one say?”
Mr. Greene hesitated.
“It claimed your mother had been financially abusing you and preventing you from controlling money your father intended for you.”
Nia looked at Ms. Bennett.
Her mother’s face went pale.
“That’s not true.”
“I know.”
“What else?”
“The sender asked whether you could petition the trust independently.”
Nia’s fingers trembled.
Malik was not merely trying to steal access.
He had been preparing a story.
A story in which Ms. Bennett became the enemy.
A story in which Nia needed Malik’s help.
Mr. Greene said, “I saved the emails.”
“Send them to us.”
“I will.”
Nia stood and looked toward the graduation banner downstairs.
The night before, she believed she had discovered the worst betrayal possible.
Now she understood something terrifying.
May you like
![92 The Girl They Called Broke Was a Billionaire’s Daughter—But Her Father’s Arrival Exposed a Secret Powerful People Had Buried for Years]](https://cdn.treeiq.biz/site_590/2026/11/clone-0-0915d882-53d7-4d17-b43a-a010ca1a1068.webp)
Malik had begun planning around her money before he ever slept with Jasmine.
And someone had given him information he should never have had.
