Chapter 8 - Celeste's Price
Celeste wanted Adrian to know she hadn't joined Charles to kill anyone.
“I thought it was money.”
They sat across from each other again.
“You thought what was money?”
“The plan.”
“Be specific.”
She swallowed.
“Charles wanted you married.”
“Why?”
“He said you were too independent.”
“That's romantic.”
“He needed someone you trusted.”
“So he hired you?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Celeste became defensive.
“He introduced us.”
“Without telling me.”
“Yes.”
“And paid you.”
She hesitated.
“Eventually.”
“How much?”
“Two million.”
Adrian stared.
“For what?”
“Consulting.”
He almost laughed.
“For manipulating my family.”
“For helping with estate planning.”
“You have no estate-planning expertise.”
“I know.”
“What did the two million buy?”
Celeste cried.
“I was supposed to encourage you to modernize the trusts after we married.”
“Modernize.”
“Yes.”
“Meaning give you access.”
“I didn't understand the scale at first.”
“When did you?”
“A year ago.”
They had been together two and a half years.
“You stayed.”
“Yes.”
“You accepted the engagement.”
“Yes.”
“You asked for the marital trust.”
“Charles told me it was normal.”
“You knew two hundred million dollars wasn't normal.”
She looked away.
“Did you love me?”
Adrian hated himself for asking.
Celeste's face broke.
“Yes.”
He almost wished she said no.
Love did not clean anything.
It only made contradiction uglier.
“Then why did you push my mother?”
Celeste covered her face.
“I panicked.”
“She was in the pool.”
“I know.”
“You stood on her fingers.”
Tears ran between her hands.
“I know.”
“You threatened her.”
“I know.”
“You talked about her death.”
Celeste lowered her hands.
“I wanted to scare her.”
“Do you understand how little that helps?”
“Yes.”
“Did Charles tell you to hurt her?”
“No.”
That surprised him.
“Then whose idea?”
“Mine.”
At least she owned it.
“Why?”
“Eleanor found the draft.”
“So?”
“She called Martin.”
“So?”
“Charles told me if the documents surfaced, everything would collapse.”
“His theft.”
“Yes.”
“And your money.”
“Yes.”
“The wedding.”
“Yes.”
“So you pushed a seventy-eight-year-old woman into a pool.”
Celeste sobbed.
“I thought she'd stand.”
Adrian stared at her.
“My mother has arthritis.”
“I know.”
“You knew.”
She closed her eyes.
No answer.
“Did you intend to kill her?”
“No.”
“Did you intend for her to believe you might?”
“Yes.”
That mattered.
Not enough.
But truth.
“Who helped falsify Mom's cognitive decline?”
“Henry.”
“Charles?”
“Yes.”
“Martin?”
“Not directly.”
“Who moved Mom's belongings?”
Celeste whispered:
“I did.”
Adrian had to look away.
“Who left the stove on?”
She said nothing.
He looked back.
“Celeste.”
“I turned it on.”
His stomach twisted.
Not only manufactured memory problems.
Manufactured danger.
“What if there had been a fire?”
“I stayed nearby.”
“You keep describing reckless behavior as if supervision turns it safe.”
She cried.
“I know.”
Adrian stopped.
There was no point forcing remorse.
The legal system would handle consequences.
“What did Charles promise you after the wedding?”
“A seat on the foundation board.”
“Money?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Access to the marital support trust.”
“Anything else?”
Celeste hesitated.
That hesitation mattered.
“What?”
“Blackwood Meridian shares.”
Adrian went still.
“How?”
“Charles said after the acquisition, there would be a recapitalization.”
“A transfer?”
“He said your voting control would be reorganized.”
“Without my approval?”
“He said you would sign.”
“I wouldn't.”
Celeste looked at him.
“He said you already had.”
Another forged document.
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Think.”
“He kept a red binder.”
“Where?”
“Family office.”
“Charles's office?”
“Yes.”
Marcus had already secured Adrian-controlled spaces.
But Charles's family-office headquarters was legally independent.
They needed court process.
By evening, investigators obtained warrants based on the growing financial case.
The red binder was found.
Inside:
Draft share transfers.
Proxy authorizations.
Medical incapacity forms.
The fake prenup.
And a fully executed-looking document transferring 28% of Adrian's voting control into a management trust.
Effective date:
Seven days after his wedding.
Trustee:
Charles Blackwood.
Successor co-trustee:
Celeste Monroe Blackwood.
Adrian's signature appeared on every page.
Perfect.
Fake.
And notarized.
The notary was Martin Hale.
May you like
The man who claimed Charles manipulated him.
Martin had been deeper in the conspiracy than he admitted.
