Chapter 8 - The Quiet Account
Marcus read the screenshots twice.
They were sitting in Jamal’s living room.
Tiana had asked to meet somewhere neutral, and Marcus had agreed.
Jamal left them alone.
Marcus placed her phone on the coffee table.
“How long has Chanel known about Jefferson?”
“I don’t know.”
“You told her?”
“I mentioned the project.”
“How much?”
“Just that you were buying properties.”
“What else?”
Tiana searched her memory.
Their brunches.
Girls’ nights.
Complaints after arguments.
Casual conversations she had never considered dangerous.
“I told her you were trying to build something bigger.”
“Numbers?”
“No.”
“Bank?”
“No.”
“Partners?”
“I might have said Andre’s name.”
Marcus stood and paced.
Tiana watched him.
“I’m sorry.”
“That phrase is starting to lose value.”
She absorbed the blow.
“You’re right.”
Marcus stopped.
“No. That was cruel.”
“It was true.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“We’re both angry.”
“I’m not asking you to forgive me today.”
“Good.”
“I’m asking what we do about LuxeCircle.”
Marcus looked at the screenshots again.
“First, you stop contacting Chanel about evidence.”
“Why?”
“Because if this is fraud, you don’t warn people while gathering documentation.”
Tiana nodded.
“Second, save everything.”
“I did.”
“Original emails?”
“Yes.”
“Wire confirmation?”
“Yes.”
“Investment agreement?”
“Yes.”
Marcus frowned.
“You signed an agreement?”
She opened her laptop.
He read it.
His expression darkened.
“This isn’t an ownership investment.”
“What?”
“This says you purchased a participation interest in revenue from an operating entity.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
His finger moved down the screen.
“They didn’t promise you ownership of property. They promised distributions if revenue existed.”
Tiana felt defensive.
“They told me—”
“I’m not criticizing you.”
She stopped.
Marcus continued more gently.
“I’m telling you the contract may have been written to make recovery harder.”
“Can I get the money back?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know an attorney?”
“Yes.”
“Will you help?”
Marcus hesitated.
The hesitation hurt.
Then he nodded.
“I’ll give you a name.”
“Thank you.”
“But Tiana, you need to understand something.”
“What?”
“If Northline’s name appears in their pitch materials, I have to protect my company.”
“Of course.”
“That may mean my attorney contacts Chanel or Darius.”
“I understand.”
“And if you knew they were using our name—”
“I didn’t.”
Marcus studied her.
“I didn’t,” she repeated.
He finally nodded.
“I believe you.”
The words nearly broke her.
After everything, he still believed that.
“Marcus.”
“Yes?”
“I need to tell you something else.”
His face tightened immediately.
“There’s more?”
“Not money.”
“What?”
“I complained about you.”
He stared.
“To Chanel.”
“How much?”
“Too much.”
“What did you say?”
“That you were cheap sometimes.”
Marcus looked away.
“That you cared more about investments than experiences.”
He remained silent.
“That you didn’t understand why image mattered in my job.”
“What does image have to do with your job?”
“I coordinate luxury events. Clients judge presentation.”
“Your clients don’t inspect my watch.”
“I know.”
“Do they inspect your car?”
“No.”
“Then whose judgment were you worried about?”
Tiana looked down.
“Chanel’s.”
Marcus sat again.
“That woman has been in our relationship for years.”
The truth stung.
“I let her.”
“Yes.”
“I know.”
Marcus picked up her phone.
“Look at the dates.”
“What?”
He enlarged one screenshot.
Chanel had written Working on it on February 4.
Tiana had withdrawn the twelve thousand on March 18.
Six weeks later.
Marcus opened another screenshot.
March 3.
Chanel:
Tee says Marcus thinks anything promising fast returns is BS.
Reply:
Then don’t tell him until it pays.
Chanel:
Exactly. She can surprise him.
Tiana’s stomach turned.
“That’s almost exactly what she told me.”
Marcus looked at her.
“What?”
“She said if I invested and made money, I could surprise you. Show you I understood investing too.”
Marcus exhaled slowly.
“She didn’t just recommend this.”
“No.”
“She coached you around me.”
Tiana nodded.
“And I let her.”
Marcus looked back at the screenshots.
“Why?”
She knew the answer now.
“Because every time I felt insecure, she made the insecurity sound like evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
“That you weren’t doing enough.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened.
“And Darius?”
“She made him look successful.”
“Cars?”
“Yes.”
“Trips?”
“Yes.”
“Designer clothes?”
“Yes.”
“Any audited financial statements?”
Despite herself, Tiana almost smiled.
“No.”
Marcus did not.
He looked toward the window.
“Dad used to say broke people sometimes spend the most energy performing wealth.”
Tiana swallowed.
“That sounds like me.”
Marcus looked back.
“Maybe.”
She appreciated that he did not lie.
His phone buzzed.
Andre.
Marcus answered.
“Hey.”
His expression changed almost immediately.
“What do you mean?”
Tiana watched him stand.
“When?”
Pause.
“Send it.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?” she asked.
Marcus looked at her.
“Northline lost a lender meeting.”
“What?”
“Someone emailed the lender a LuxeCircle investment deck.”
Tiana went cold.
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Marcus’s voice became quiet.
“An investment deck with our logo on it.”
