Chapter 5 - The Price of Walking Away
Adrian wanted Celeste out of Toronto before sunrise.
Celeste refused before he finished the sentence.
“No.”
“Celeste.”
“No.”
“This is no longer about publicity.”
“It never was.”
“Victor will know I found the documents.”
“Then your lawyers need them.”
“They already have copies.”
“Good.”
“And you need distance.”
She folded her arms.
“From you?”
“From this.”
Adrian gestured around his father’s office.
The documents lay in organized stacks. Every page seemed to carry another piece of a history Adrian had spent years trying to escape.
Celeste understood why he wanted her gone.
Not because he did not trust her.
Because he did.
That was worse.
“You think sending me away fixes what happened at the gala?” she asked.
“No.”
“You think the photograph disappears?”
“No.”
“You think Victor suddenly forgets my name?”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“No.”
“Then stop making decisions for me.”
He stared at her.
“I am trying to protect you.”
“And I am telling you what protection looks like to me.”
Silence.
Celeste softened.
“I will stay with Tomas tonight. I will use your driver. I will not go anywhere alone. But I am not disappearing because Victor expects fear to work.”
Adrian looked exhausted.
“You are impossible.”
“You met me in a hallway.”
“I remember.”
At Tomas’s apartment, Celeste finally slept for three hours.
She woke to forty-seven missed notifications.
The story had changed overnight.
Anonymous documents had been sent to several reporters.
They accused Adrian of financial misconduct, secret agreements, and misuse of Vale Holdings funds.
Victor had moved first.
Tomas sat at the kitchen table reading articles.
“He’s trying to bury Adrian before the board vote.”
Celeste scrolled.
Every story mentioned the sudden engagement.
Her name had become part of the narrative.
One headline asked whether Adrian’s “mystery fiancée” had influenced major business decisions.
Celeste laughed once.
It sounded angry.
“I have known him five days.”
“Facts are not the point.”
“No. Timing is.”
She looked at Tomas.
“Victor needs everyone discussing me instead of the records Adrian found.”
Tomas nodded slowly.
“A distraction.”
Her phone rang.
Adrian.
She answered.
“Do not respond publicly,” he said.
“Good morning to you too.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
“Celeste.”
“You need to release the records.”
“My attorneys are preparing a statement.”
“That sounds slow.”
“It is legally careful.”
“And Victor is winning emotionally.”
Adrian was silent.
Celeste continued.
“You want people to believe you are changing Vale Holdings? Then stop hiding behind language that sounds like a corporation wrote it.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“Tell the truth.”
An hour later, Adrian arrived.
Not in a suit.
No tie.
Dark sweater, tired eyes.
For the first time, he looked less like Toronto’s most feared man and more like someone who had not slept because his entire family history had been dragged into daylight.
Celeste poured tea.
“You are not good at taking your own advice,” she said.
“What advice?”
“Eat.”
Tomas pushed toast toward him.
Adrian looked offended.
Tomas shrugged.
“You’re in my kitchen.”
Something almost normal passed between them.
Then Adrian said, “The board vote is tomorrow.”
“Can Victor win?” Tomas asked.
“Yes.”
“Then what?”
“I lose executive authority while the company investigates.”
“And Victor takes control?”
“Temporarily.”
Celeste knew temporary power had a way of becoming permanent.
“What does he want most?”
Adrian answered immediately.
“The waterfront contract.”
“Why?”
“It gives access to distribution infrastructure across several private subsidiaries.”
“Then the vote is not about you.”
“No.”
“It is about signing that contract while you cannot stop him.”
Adrian looked at her.
“Yes.”
Celeste sat back.
The answer was obvious.
“Then don’t fight only for your job.”
“What do you mean?”
“Make the contract impossible.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
She continued.
“You own the infrastructure?”
“Vale Holdings does.”
“Can the board sell it?”
“With approval.”
“Can you donate or transfer any part of it?”
“Not quickly.”
“Can you shut the program down?”
He went still.
“Possibly.”
Tomas looked between them.
Celeste leaned forward.
“If Victor wants the old network, remove the thing he needs before the vote.”
Adrian stared at her.
“That division employs four hundred people.”
“Then protect the employees and close the access Victor wants.”
His expression changed.
Not amusement.
Respect.
“You think like a crisis counselor.”
“I think like someone who has had to survive tuition.”
By afternoon, Adrian’s legal team had a plan.
Vale Holdings would restructure the waterfront division, place key logistics assets under independent compliance oversight, and terminate the disputed contract before the board could approve it.
Victor would still have political leverage.
But not the prize.
The announcement went public at 4:00 p.m.
At 4:07, Victor called Celeste.
She stared at the screen.
Adrian said, “Do not answer.”
Celeste answered.
“Hello?”
Victor’s voice was calm.
“You are becoming expensive.”
“I’m a nursing student. Everyone tells me that.”
“This is not a joke.”
“No. It isn’t.”
“You have no idea what Adrian will become when the pressure is high enough.”
Celeste looked at Adrian.
He could hear Victor through the speaker.
“Maybe,” she said. “But I know what you become.”
Silence.
Victor’s voice cooled.
“Careful.”
Celeste ended the call.
Adrian stared at her.
“You hung up on Victor Vale.”
“I also told him I was busy.”
“You were not.”
“I became busy.”
For the first time in days, Adrian laughed.
A real laugh.
It changed his entire face.
Celeste felt something inside her shift dangerously.
That evening, they stood on Tomas’s small balcony overlooking the street.
Snow had begun to fall.
“You should have stayed out of that corridor,” Adrian said.
“Yes.”
“You should regret meeting me.”
“Probably.”
“Do you?”
Celeste looked at him.
“No.”
The honesty frightened both of them.
Adrian’s voice lowered.
“This engagement was supposed to last seven days.”
“I know.”
“Tomorrow is day six.”
“I know.”
He looked toward the street.
“When this is over, I can make the attention disappear.”
“Can you?”
“Most of it.”
“And us?”
Adrian turned.
The question had escaped before she could stop it.
Celeste’s heartbeat changed.
Adrian stepped closer.
“There is no us,” he said softly.
It should have sounded like rejection.
Instead it sounded like a warning to himself.
Celeste held his gaze.
“Right.”
Neither moved.
Then Tomas opened the balcony door.
“You two are terrible at pretending not to be in love.”
Celeste spun around.
“We are not—”
Adrian’s phone rang.
The moment shattered.
He listened to the caller for less than ten seconds.
Then his expression became deadly serious.
“What happened?” Celeste asked.
“The board vote has been moved.”
“To when?”
“Tonight.”
May you like
Victor had stopped waiting.
And Adrian had less than one hour to keep the company his father built from falling back into the hands of the man who wanted its darkest pieces restored.
