Signed by Fate

CHAPTER ONE

The sun scorched effortlessly.

Miriam comes out of her house looking all glamorous and polished with her light navy button-down shirt, pencil skirt, low-to-mid heels that put her half a head taller than most of her stuff, accessories chosen with the precision of someone who had learned, early and painfully, that people decided how much respect to give you before you opened your mouth.

She struts down slowly but majestically to her garage, as someone who isn't in a hurry, hurrying was for people who hadn't planned ahead. With each step echoing as her heels struck the concrete in an even rhythm until she reached the elevator that glided down to her garage and it carried her down into the cool dark of the parking level.

Arriving at the garage level, she walks calmly to her car tucked in the far corner, as it always was — she liked the distance between herself and other people's doors. Her key out, she quickly reaches for her car door, but she freezes as someone calls her name from behind.

She turned fast, heart lurching before her mind caught up. Her eyes are rounding in surprise, and a crease forms between her brows. She watches the young man approach her.

The young man was crossing the garage towards her, grinning like he already knew he'd surprised her. She freezes, her breath caught as she recognizes her cousin.

“Hey, you.”

I've been trying to reach you, he said. but your line keeps saying unreachable.

"Network issue, probably," she said, though her breath hadn't quite caught up with her yet.

“Okay then.” He said it lightly, like the matter was settled, like he hadn't just showed up without warning. I just landed in New York. I thought to myself, “Why not spend some time with my cousin?”

Miriam thought to herself, “Spend some time?”. The phrase sat wrong in her chest. She wasn’t one to accommodate people, especially family members who often brought unnecessary trouble like Jimi. In her experience, family was a liability with good PR.

"Okay," she said, mouth tight, and turned back to her car door.

"Won't you be giving me the keys to your apartment?" Jimi said.

She stopped. Of course. He hadn't come to see her. He'd come to use her address as a hotel.

She handed the keys over without a word. He took them, and his suitcase, and walked off toward the elevator like he owned the place.

Miriam dropped into the driver's seat and let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She turned the ignition and the engine started. The garage door climbing open in her rearview mirror.

She was three blocks out when her cellphone rang. Siri, the built-in voice assistant, announced the caller's ID before she even glanced at the dash.

Realizing it's her assistant, she hurriedly reached for her phone.

"Ma'am,” Kylie's voice had a strange flatness to it.

“Yes, Kylie. Are the investor funds secured for the meeting?

A pause. Too long a pause.

“Yes, ma'am, but there's a problem.

Something cold moved through Miriam's stomach. What problem?

The investors are saying it's fake, ma."

The words didn't land right away. *Fake.* She heard the word before she understood it.

"Fake," Miriam repeated, and her voice came out thinner than she meant it to. Her heart was racing fast. "How is that even possible?" with a shaky tone.

"I don't know, ma." Kylie's fear leaked through the line. "But Mr. Roberts is here with me."

I'll be there soon." Miriam gripped the wheel tighter. "Keep the matter internal. Don't let it get out to the press."

"Okay, ma'am." Kylie responded.

The call ended. Miriam drove the rest of the way in a kind of suspended disbelief, the word *fake* looping under everything else in her head. By the time she reached the office, her hands weren't quite steady.

She parked badly, was out of the car before the engine had finished ticking, and took the stairs to the executive floor two at a time despite the heels, walking as though she was about to meet her dead end.

The whispers from her staff found her before the boardroom did.

*"The investment is fake." "I hope this doesn't hit the media, or the company's finished."*

She didn't slow down for any of it.

Kylie and Mr. Roberts were waiting for her when she pushed through the boardroom doors, and from the set of Roberts's jaw, she understood this was worse than a rumor.

Mr. Davis, who happens to be one of the investors, was already seated. Calm on the surface — hands folded, back straight — but there was a vein at his temple that gave him away.

"Miss Miriam." Just her name, but he loaded it with enough weight to make her flinch.

Yes, Mr. Davis." She made herself meet his eyes. A bit shaken. "I believe there's been a mix-up somewhere. We can resolve this without involving outside parties.

"No." He echoed strucking the table with one flat hand, and the water glasses jumped. "This is fraud. It will be handled legally. My partners are highly disappointed."

Roberts, who is the company legal advisor, cleared his throat, the practiced sound of a man used to stepping between angry people. "Mr. Davis — are there demands that could be met? Something that avoids legal action for everyone at this table?. He asked trying to calm down the tension.

Davis's mouth curled, not quite a smile. Yes. "There are demands. Refund the money, or go to jail." He said as though he had wanted to tear everyone apart. He rose, chair scraping. "Take your pick."Mr. Davis responds. But still in a harsh tone with a disdainful look.

He left without waiting for an answer, the door slamming hard enough to rattle the glass wall of the boardroom.

Miriam didn't move. Couldn't. She sat there feeling the floor of her own company tilt slowly beneath her, until Kylie's hand landed light on her shoulder. Miss Miriam, still speechless and in total shock at what just happened, remained mute for minutes, sitting like one who was about to lose everything she had ever worked for.

"Ma'am?"

"My company is about to crash." Miriam heard herself say it like she was narrating someone else's disaster. "This isn't happening."

She straightened, forced her voice into something steadier. "Kylie. This cannot reach the media."

But Kylie says with her head slightly bowed, it has gotten to the media already. I don't know how — but there are reporters outside the building right now.”

"Mr. Roberts exhaled through his nose. "Miss Miriam, “I must say that this isn't good for the company, and I suggest that the demands be met immediately to avoid further escalation of this matter.

"I've tried calling the firm we invested with." Her voice cracked despite every effort to keep it level. "Nothing. No response". She says as though she's about to burst into tears.

"And we don't have such an amount of money sitting around to refund," Kylie added quietly. "We were counting on returns from that investment. Not — this.

Kylie hands her the investment file. Miriam opened it, her hand froze.

Kylie hands her the investment file. She opens it. Her hand froze.

The contract inside was fake. Not disputed, obviously fake, the kind of fake that made her wonder how she'd ever signed off on it.