“You were gambling on gifts to pay for a house you can’t afford?” I asked, incredulous. “Vanessa, you are thirty years old. This isn’t a mistake; this is fraud.”
“You’re so dramatic,” she scoffed. “Just write a check, Dad. Fix it. You always fix it. If you don’t, I’ll be homeless, and that will look great for your reputation, won’t it?”
“No,” I said quietly.
The room went silent. Vanessa blinked. “What?”
“No,” I repeated. “I am not writing a check. I am not fixing this. You want to live like a grown woman? Then you will face the consequences like one.”
“But… the house,” she gasped. “They’ll take it.”
“Then let them take it,” I said. “You didn’t buy it anyway. You rented it with a down payment you stole.”
She turned to Marcus, eyes pleading. “Marcus, baby, tell him. We need this house.”
Marcus looked at her, and I saw the heartbreak in his eyes. He took a slow breath. “I’m done, Vanessa. The wedding is off.”
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