Chapter 3 - The Wedding Was a Business Deal
For seven seconds, Dominic said nothing.
Graham Whitmore was still on the phone.
I could hear traffic in the background and the clipped voices of men talking nearby.
Then Graham spoke again.
“Dominic? Answer me.”
Dominic ended the call.
Celeste stared at him.
“Call him back.”
“Not here.”
“Call. Him. Back.”
I had never heard Celeste use that voice.
At charity events, she always seemed effortlessly composed.
Perfect blond hair.
Perfect posture.
Perfect smile.
She was the kind of woman who could insult someone while making the words sound like a compliment.
Now she looked twenty years older than she had in her wedding photographs.
“Celeste,” Dominic said, “your father is trying to protect the investment.”
“What investment?”
“Our future.”
She glanced at me.
Then back at him.
“You said Daddy's money was going into a profitable hotel expansion.”
“It is.”
“You said Vale Hospitality had record revenue.”
“It does.”
“Then why is he terrified of a ledger?”
Dominic slammed his palm against the wall.
“Because Evelyn is twisting things!”
A security officer took one step forward.
Simone calmly closed her folder.
“Mr. Vale, your visit is over.”
Dominic turned toward me.
“This isn't finished.”
“No,” I agreed. “It isn't.”
His expression darkened.
“You think you're clever because my father liked you?”
“Your father respected people who told him the truth.”
“He was old. He didn't understand the modern business.”
“Then why did he put so many protections around your decisions?”
That landed harder than I expected.
For one moment, I saw the little boy beneath the expensive tuxedo.
The son desperate to prove he was better than his father.
The man who had mistaken disobedience for independence.
Then the anger returned.
“You have no idea what you're getting into.”
I looked at him.
“Dominic, I've spent six months getting into it.”
The officer opened the door.
Dominic walked out.
Celeste didn't follow immediately.
She remained at the foot of my bed, looking at Arthur's photograph.
Then she asked a question I wasn't expecting.
“Did you know I was pregnant last year?”
My stomach tightened.
“No.”
She nodded as though that confirmed something.
“I was.”
Dominic's footsteps stopped outside the room.
Celeste glanced toward the door.
Then she lowered her voice.
“I lost the baby at eleven weeks.”
I didn't know what to say.
She swallowed.
“Dominic told me not to tell anyone. He said my father would think I was trying to trap him into marriage.”
For the first time, I looked at Celeste without seeing the woman who had helped destroy my marriage.
I saw someone else.
A woman who had believed Dominic when he said terrible things because admitting the truth would have meant admitting she had made a mistake.
“I'm sorry,” I said.
She pressed her lips together.
“He told me you wanted children but couldn't have them. He said you resented me because I could give him the family you couldn't.”
I looked down at the empty space where my daughter had been sleeping.
“I never knew you existed until I found the hotel receipts.”
Celeste blinked.
“What receipts?”
“The Charleston conference. The suite billed to a renovation consultant who wasn't at the conference.”
She covered her mouth.
“Dominic told me he'd already separated from you.”
“He told me he was attending a three-day investor meeting.”
Celeste leaned against the wall.
Something passed between us then.
Not forgiveness.
Not friendship.
Recognition.
We had both believed the same man.
And he had used different lies to control us.
“Why did you marry him?” I asked.
Her eyes filled.
“Because he said he loved me.”
It would have been easy to tell her she deserved whatever came next.
Easy to remind her about the cruel message she had sent me after the divorce.
But exhaustion had stripped away my appetite for pointless cruelty.
“Did your father arrange the merger before or after Dominic proposed?”
Celeste shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“Think.”
She stared at the floor.
Then her eyes widened.
“The Cayman meeting.”
Simone straightened.
“What Cayman meeting?”
“Daddy took Dominic to Grand Cayman in February. He told me they were finalizing financing. When they returned, Dominic proposed.”
I exchanged a look with Simone.
February.
The same month the second renovation account began receiving payments.
“Celeste,” Simone said carefully, “did your father bring any company documents home?”
“Sometimes.”
“Anything related to Meridian Coastal?”
Celeste's face changed.
“Yes.”
My heart began pounding.
“What?”
“A blue folder.”
Simone leaned forward.
“What was in it?”
“I don't know. Daddy keeps important papers in his study.”
“Did you ever hear him discuss those accounts?”
Celeste nodded.
“Once. He was shouting at someone on the phone. He said the beneficial ownership schedule had to be corrected before the wedding.”
Simone went completely still.
“Are you sure those were his words?”
“Yes.”
Dominic appeared in the doorway.
“Celeste. We're leaving.”
She didn't move.
His voice hardened.
“Now.”
Celeste looked at him.
“You lied about your divorce.”
He stepped inside.
“Not this again.”
“You lied about Evelyn.”
“Celeste.”
“And you lied about the baby.”
He reached for her arm.
She pulled away.
“Don't touch me.”
For a moment, something dangerous flashed in his eyes.
Then he noticed the security officer standing behind him.
He dropped his hand.
“Fine,” he said. “Stay here. Tell Evelyn whatever she wants. But when your father cuts you off, don't come crying to me.”
Celeste recoiled.
The threat was so immediate, so practiced, that I wondered how often she had heard it.
She walked past him without another word.
At the doorway, she stopped.
Then she turned toward me.
“Evelyn?”
“Yes?”
“I thought I won something when he chose me.”
She glanced at Dominic.
“I think he sold me something instead.”
The door closed behind them.
For a long time, I said nothing.
Simone waited.
Then she opened her laptop.
“There's something else you need to see.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
She rotated the screen.
An old corporate filing appeared.
Three names.
Dominic Vale.
Graham Whitmore.
And a third name I recognized immediately.
A woman I had trusted for years.
The former chief financial officer of Vale Hospitality.
The woman who had attended my wedding.
The woman who had hugged me at Arthur's funeral.
Margaret Shaw.
Simone spoke softly.
“Evelyn, Margaret approved the first unauthorized transfer four months before Arthur died.”
I stared at the screen.
Then I remembered something Arthur had said during his final week in the hospital.
If Margaret ever tells you the documents are missing, don't believe her.
I had thought the medication made him confused.
Now I wasn't so sure.
Because beside Margaret's name was an authorization code.
And the code belonged to me.
May you like
Someone had used my identity to move money.
And the first transaction had occurred while I was sitting beside Arthur's deathbed.
