PART 3: THE SIGNATURE THAT EXPOSED EVERYTHING
“Maria, the signature on those documents is yours,” Rebecca said quietly. “But there’s something very strange about it.”
I gripped my phone tighter. “What do you mean?”
“The signature looks identical to one you provided on an older financial document. Not similar, Maria. Identical. Even the tiny curve at the end of your last name matches perfectly.”
My stomach dropped.
“Are you saying Adrian forged my signature?”
“I’m saying we have reason to investigate. And until we know exactly what happened, you must not let him know what we’ve discovered.”
I looked down at the black notebook still clutched in my hand.
The words “Maria must leave” suddenly felt like a threat rather than a simple plan.
“Rebecca, I found something else.”
I photographed every page of the notebook and sent the images to her.
A few minutes later, she called again.
“Maria, where did you find this?”
“In Adrian’s office.”
“These numbers match part of the financing application. But the amount is even more concerning. Someone attempted to obtain $280,000 using your property as security.”
I sank into the chair beside the window.
My mother had spent thirty years saving enough money to give me that house. She had skipped vacations, worn the same clothes for years, and worked overtime until her hands ached.
And my husband had apparently tried to gamble her sacrifice away.
“Has the money been released?” I whispered.
“Not according to what I can see. The application is still under review. I’m contacting the lender and requesting copies of everything. We may need to report suspected fraud.”
For the first time since Adrian admitted his affair, I cried.
Not because I wanted him back.
Not because I missed our marriage.
But because I finally understood how little he had valued my trust.
By nine that morning, I was sitting across from Rebecca in her office.
She spread the documents across her desk.
“Let’s start with something important,” she said. “Your mother’s gift deed is clear. She transferred the house directly to you. Adrian isn’t listed as an owner.”
I exhaled.
“Then why would anyone accept an application with his name?”
“Because the documents submitted to the lender include a purported authorization from you. And there’s another document claiming you’re transferring an ownership interest.”
I stared at her.
“I never agreed to that.”
“I believe you. But we need evidence that proves it.”
Rebecca turned her laptop toward me.
On the screen was a scanned document dated six weeks earlier.
At the bottom sat a signature that appeared to be mine.
Beside it was the name of a supposed witness.
Lilibeth Santos.
Adrian’s mother.
My mouth went dry.
“She was there when he prepared these?”
“According to the document, yes.”
Suddenly, I remembered an evening six weeks ago when Lilibeth had unexpectedly visited our house.
She had brought dinner, something she almost never did, and insisted that I sit down while Adrian handled the dishes.
At the time, I had thought she was finally trying to be kind.
Now I wondered whether that entire evening had been arranged for another purpose.
Rebecca watched my expression.
“Maria, is there something you remember?”
I told her everything.
Then another memory surfaced.
The day after that dinner, Adrian had asked whether I still kept my passport and identification documents in the bedroom safe.
He claimed he needed to update our insurance information.
I had given him the combination.
My hands began trembling.
Rebecca wrote everything down.
“Don’t blame yourself for trusting someone you married,” she said. “We need to focus on what can be established.”
Before I could answer, my phone lit up.
Adrian.
I let it ring.
Then came a message.
Adrian: We need to talk. Mom says you embarrassed everyone yesterday.
Another followed.
Adrian: Vanessa is very upset. You need to understand that stress isn’t good for the baby.
I stared at the screen, almost amazed by his audacity.
He had betrayed me, tried to force me out of my own home, and possibly attempted to use my property without permission.
Yet somehow, he still believed I was responsible for making his mistress comfortable.
Rebecca noticed the messages.
“Don’t discuss the property documents with him. Save everything.”
I nodded.
Then Adrian sent a third message.
Adrian: Also, don’t touch anything in my office. Some of those files are confidential.
My heart skipped.
How did he know I had been inside his office?
I looked toward Rebecca.
“I think he’s watching me.”
Her expression changed.
“Why?”
I showed her the message.
She immediately suggested checking the security system.
I opened the home surveillance app and discovered something I had never noticed before.
Adrian had added another administrator account.
The account had access to the indoor cameras, including the one overlooking the hallway outside his office.
I felt sick.
Rebecca advised me to preserve the account information and recordings before changing anything.
But then we noticed something even more unsettling.
The administrator’s contact email didn’t belong to Adrian.
It belonged to Vanessa.
His mistress.
I stared at the address in disbelief.
Not only had Adrian invited another woman into our marriage, but he had also given her access to watch what happened inside my home.
“Maria,” Rebecca said carefully, “we need to treat this seriously.”
I nodded, but my mind was already racing.
Had Vanessa known about the property scheme?
Or had Adrian been lying to her, too?
That afternoon, I received an unexpected call.
It was Vanessa.
I almost ignored it.
But something told me to answer.
“Maria?” Her voice sounded completely different from the confident woman who had sat in my living room.
“What do you want?”
“I need to speak with you. Alone.”
“About what?”
She hesitated.
“About Adrian. And the house.”
My pulse quickened.
“What about it?”
“Please. There’s something you don’t know. Something his mother made me promise never to tell you.”
I glanced at Rebecca, who was still sitting across from me.
“Tell me now.”
“I can’t. Not over the phone.”
“Then I have nothing to say to you.”
“Wait!” Vanessa’s voice cracked. “Maria, I thought Adrian was divorced when I met him.”
I went completely still.
“What?”
“He told me your marriage had ended months earlier. He said you were only staying in the house until the property settlement was finished.”
I closed my eyes.
Another lie.
Another carefully constructed deception.
“Then why did you come to my house yesterday and ask to become his legal wife?”
Vanessa started crying.
“Because by then I knew he was still married. He told me you had agreed to the divorce but were refusing to move out. His mother said you were trying to punish us.”
I didn’t respond.
I was too exhausted to process another layer of betrayal.
Then Vanessa whispered something that changed everything.
“Maria, Adrian isn’t doing this just because of me or the baby.”
“What do you mean?”
“His business is collapsing. He owes people money. A lot of money.”
I tightened my grip on the phone.
“How much?”
“I don’t know the exact amount. But last week, I overheard him arguing with his mother. She said that if they couldn’t get the money from your house, the people he owed would come looking for him.”
A cold sensation traveled down my spine.
The $280,000.
The forged documents.
The pressure to divorce.
Suddenly, every piece began falling into place.
“Vanessa, where are you?”
“At my sister’s apartment. Adrian doesn’t know I left.”
“Why did you call me?”
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she answered in a trembling voice.
“Because I found out he’s been lying about something else. And I don’t think I’m safe around him anymore.”
Rebecca leaned forward when she saw my expression.
“What did you find?” I asked.
Vanessa took a shaky breath.
“Last night, Adrian and his mother were arguing in the kitchen. They didn’t know I was upstairs listening. His mother said they should have handled you differently from the beginning.”
I held my breath.
“Then Adrian said something I can’t stop thinking about.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘If Maria hadn’t discovered the property paperwork, we’d already have everything we needed.'”
My chest tightened.
“But that’s impossible,” I whispered.
“What is?”
“I only discovered those papers this morning.”
The line went silent.
Then Vanessa whispered, “Maria, I think someone has been telling Adrian everything you do.”
I looked at the surveillance app still open on my laptop.
The second administrator account.
The cameras.
The messages.
And suddenly, I realized why Adrian had seemed so confident.
He believed he knew every move I made.
But he didn’t know I was speaking to Vanessa.
And he certainly didn’t know Rebecca had already contacted the lender.
“Vanessa, listen carefully. Don’t tell Adrian you called me.”
“I won’t.”
“Do you have anything that could prove what you’re saying?”
There was a pause.
“Actually, yes.”
My heart began pounding.
“What?”
“Adrian left an old phone at my apartment. I found messages between him and his mother. They’re talking about your house, the loan, and something they called ‘the final arrangement.'”
I exchanged a glance with Rebecca.
“Can you send them?”
“Yes, but Maria, there’s one more thing.”
“What?”
Vanessa’s voice dropped almost to a whisper.
“His mother wrote that once the house was transferred, they wouldn’t need me anymore.”
I froze.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t think Adrian ever intended to marry me.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The woman who had proudly sat in my living room demanding my place was beginning to realize she might have been another piece in Adrian’s plan.
But I wasn’t ready to forgive her.
Not yet.
“Send the messages to my attorney,” I said. “She’ll tell you how to preserve the originals.”
Vanessa agreed.
Twenty minutes later, Rebecca opened the files Vanessa had provided.
I watched her eyes move across the screen.
Then she stopped scrolling.
“Maria,” she said slowly, “you need to see this.”
She turned the laptop toward me.
It was a message from Lilibeth to Adrian, sent eleven days earlier.
Lilibeth: Stop worrying about Maria. Once the transfer goes through, we’ll have control of the house. Then deal with Vanessa. She doesn’t need to know about the other woman.
I stared at the final sentence.
The other woman?
There was another woman besides Vanessa?
Before I could speak, Rebecca opened the next message.
It was a photograph.
A woman I had never seen stood beside Adrian outside an expensive restaurant.
In her arms was a little boy, perhaps four years old.
Underneath the photograph, Lilibeth had written:
Lilibeth: Remember who your real responsibility is. You’ve kept this secret from Maria long enough.
My entire body went numb.
I stared at the little boy’s face.
The same dark eyes.
The same smile.
The same unmistakable resemblance to my husband.
And suddenly, Adrian’s affair with Vanessa wasn’t the most devastating secret in our marriage anymore.
Because while I had spent years believing we were building a future together, it appeared Adrian might already have a family I knew nothing about.
But the biggest shock came when Rebecca enlarged the photograph.
Behind Adrian and the little boy was a building with a familiar name printed above its entrance.
I recognized it immediately.
It was the private medical center where my mother had spent her final weeks.
And the woman standing beside Adrian looked painfully familiar.
I leaned closer.
Then I remembered exactly where I had seen her before.
She was the nurse who had cared for my dying mother………
TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 4…
