Chapter 2: The Signature
I didn't sleep.
At 2:17 in the morning, I was still sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the documents.
By 3:00, I had printed every page.
By 4:15, I had spread them across the floor like pieces of a crime scene.
Noah's backpack was still by the front door.
One of his sneakers was lying sideways beside it.
There was something sickening about seeing ordinary things while my entire life had quietly become unfamiliar.
At 6:40, Noah wandered into the kitchen in dinosaur pajamas.
“Dad?””
I looked up.
“You okay, buddy?””
He rubbed his eyes.
“Are we going to Mom's house?””
I swallowed.
“This is Mom's house too.””
He looked confused.
“Then why did she say she might stay somewhere else?””
I froze.
“What?””
He shrugged.
“She said it yesterday.””
I forced my voice to stay calm.
“What exactly did Mom say?””
Noah climbed onto the chair.
“She said things were changing.””
My hands went cold.
“Anything else?””
“She said I shouldn't worry because the house would still be ours.””
I looked at the hallway.
The house.
Our house.
The one my father had helped us buy.
The one I had paid for after working twelve-hour shifts for years.
The one apparently listed in the paperwork I had never signed.
“Did she talk to you about the gym man?””
Noah frowned.
“Jason?””
The name hit me harder than I expected.
So he knew him.
“How do you know his name?””
“Mom says it all the time.””
I nodded slowly.
“Okay.””
Noah looked at me.
“Are you mad?””
I forced a smile.
“A little.””
“Are you gonna leave too?””
That broke something in me.
I reached across the table and took his hand.
“No. Never.””
At 8:12, I called my old friend Daniel.
He was the first person I knew who had become a lawyer instead of simply saying he was going to.
He picked up on the fourth ring.
“Mark?””
“I need you to look at something.””
“What's wrong?””
“I think someone forged my signature.””
The silence on the other end lasted three seconds.
“Send me everything.””
“I already did.””
Another pause.
Then:
“Where did you get these?””
“My email.””
“Who sent it?””
“A company account.””
“What company?””
I told him.
He swore under his breath.
“What?””
“Mark, L&J Performance Group was registered six weeks ago.””
I stared at the printed paperwork.
“You knew about it?””
“No. I know because I'm looking at the state filing right now.””
My throat tightened.
“Who formed it?””
“Jason Cole.””
Of course.
I closed my eyes.
“Can you tell whether Laura is listed?””
“She is.””
“As what?””
“Majority member.””
I looked at the kitchen clock.
“That's not possible.””
“Why?””
“Because Laura doesn't have that kind of money.””
Daniel went quiet.
“Exactly.””
At 9:03, I drove to the office.
I couldn't think about the gym.
I couldn't think about the kiss.
I needed facts.
My father had built Westridge Family Holdings over twenty years. After he died, he left controlling ownership to me.
The remaining assets had been placed into a trust.
Laura knew that.
But she also knew I didn't like discussing money.
Especially not with her.
Not because I didn't trust her.
Because I never imagined I'd need to.
I opened the company's internal records.
One transfer request immediately caught my eye.
$480,000.
Pending.
Recipient: L&J Performance Group LLC.
I stared at the number.
Then I clicked into the authorization history.
Someone had logged in using my credentials three weeks earlier.
I checked the timestamp.
11:48 p.m.
I was asleep.
Or at least, I thought I was.
Daniel called again.
“Mark.””
“Yeah.””
“I need you to listen carefully.””
His voice had changed.
“Okay.””
“The signature isn't the biggest problem.””
I leaned back.
“What do you mean?””
“The authorization document contains a notary seal.””
“So?””
“The notary date is valid.””
“Meaning?””
“Meaning someone physically appeared before a notary claiming to be you.””
My skin prickled.
“Can you see who the witness was?””
“Yes.””
“Who?””
Daniel hesitated.
Then he said,
“Laura Bennett.””
I stopped breathing.
“Laura witnessed my signature?””
“No.””
He took a breath.
“Laura signed as the witness to your signature.””
I looked down at the paperwork.
Suddenly, the room felt too small.
“There's something else,” Daniel said.
“What?””
“The transfer hasn't happened yet.””
I let out a breath.
“Good.””
“No.””
His voice was grim.
“That's not good, Mark.””
“Why?””
“Because the contract says the transfer becomes final once a second approval is received.””
I looked at the bottom of the page.
A line I'd overlooked.
*Spousal Approval — Required.*
Beneath it was another printed name.
Laura Bennett.
And next to it was a date.
Tomorrow.
I whispered, “Tomorrow?””
“Yes.””
Then Daniel said something that made my blood turn cold.
“Mark, according to this agreement, once Laura gives that approval, you're no longer the legal owner of the house.””
I stared at my wedding ring.
Then at the documents.
Then at the clock.
May you like
The next approval was due in less than twenty-four hours.
And Laura already knew that.
