My Husband Forced Me to Serve Drinks at His Promotion Gala — Then the Board Announced I Inherited the Entire $40 Million Corporation
The unredacted 1912 deed was a beacon of truth, solidifying my claim to DuBois Manor and its corporation. I clutched it, the fragile paper a stark contrast to Marcus’s ruthless machinations. Evelyn’s courage had given me a powerful weapon, and I knew Marcus wouldn’t stop. He was cornered, desperate.
Two days later, the other shoe dropped. This time, his retaliation was far more insidious, far more dangerous. It was a move designed not just to cripple me, but to destroy my reputation and land me in legal jeopardy.
I received an email from my bank, a notification of a large incoming wire transfer. The amount made my blood run cold: $320,000. It had been deposited directly into my personal checking account, the one Marcus had tried to freeze, the one I hadn’t used for months. The sender was listed simply as “DuBois Heritage Corp Historic Preservation Fund.”
I stared at the screen, a chill creeping up my spine. This wasn’t a mistake. This was a setup. Marcus knew my account details. He knew my financial history. He was trying to frame me.
Later that afternoon, my phone rang. It was an unknown number. I answered cautiously.
“Is this Maya DuBois-Gaines?” a male voice asked, formal and official.
“Yes, speaking,” I replied, my heart pounding.
“This is Detective Raynard Moreau, Financial Crimes Unit, State Police. We’ve received an anonymous tip regarding a substantial unauthorized wire transfer from the DuBois Heritage Corporation’s historic preservation fund into a personal account.”
My grip tightened on the phone. This was it. Marcus had activated his trap.
“I understand,” I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. “I can explain everything, Detective. The transfer was completely unauthorized by me.”
“We’ll need to open a formal investigation, Ms. DuBois-Gaines,” he continued, his tone unyielding. “This is a serious matter. Wire fraud and corporate embezzlement are federal offenses. We’ll be requesting access to your financial records immediately.”
He rattled off a case number, his voice devoid of emotion. I knew I was now officially under suspicion. Marcus had used the corporation’s sacred preservation funds – money meant for the very legacy I was trying to protect – to implicate me. He had orchestrated this entire scheme with ruthless precision, reporting his own wife to the state financial crimes division for high-level corporate embezzlement.
I hung up, my mind racing. He must have used Simone Washington, his co-conspirator and mistress, to execute the wire transfer. Simone, who worked in the corporate finance department, had access. She was careless, opportunistic, just like Marcus. This wasn’t just about money; it was about public disgrace, about prison time. He wanted to see me ruined, believing that without my good name, I would have nothing left.
But he underestimated me. He also underestimated the ancient forces stirring within the DuBois Manor. He had unleashed a storm, not just in my life, but in the very fabric of the house he now sought to control. And those ancient walls, I sensed, were ready to fight back.
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