Chapter 10 - Celeste Finally Talks
Celeste looked smaller without the conservatory, the donors, and the Morello name surrounding her.
She sat barefoot on the floor of her apartment.
“I hated you,” she said.
Valentina remained standing.
“I noticed.”
“You came into this family and somehow stayed clean.”
“I didn't know what was happening.”
“That made it worse.”
Celeste laughed bitterly.
“I grew up learning that love was leverage. You arrived and treated people like people.”
“And that made you want to hurt my son?”
Celeste flinched.
“No excuse makes that acceptable.”
“Correct.”
“I'll regret it for the rest of my life.”
“Good.”
Celeste nodded.
“I deserve that.”
Then she explained Arthur.
He had approached her three weeks before the reception.
He showed her Evelyn's letter.
But he changed one instruction.
Make the danger real.
“Why did you listen?”
“Because he told me Salvatore had chosen you.”
“And?”
“I thought if you failed, Victor would win.”
“So you risked Owen for your brother?”
Celeste looked away.
“Yes.”
Valentina felt disgust rather than surprise.
“Arthur manipulated you.”
“I let him.”
That distinction mattered.
“Why?”
Celeste handed Valentina another envelope.
Inside were photographs.
Arthur meeting Salvatore.
Arthur meeting Evelyn.
Arthur meeting Victor.
Arthur meeting Celeste.
Always separately.
Always privately.
“He was playing everyone,” Valentina said.
“Yes.”
“But why?”
Celeste opened her laptop.
A family tree appeared.
Arthur Bell wasn't Arthur Bell.
His birth name was Arthur Morello.
Salvatore's older half brother.
Removed from the family decades earlier.
Valentina stared.
“He wanted the organization?”
“Not exactly.”
Celeste clicked another file.
Arthur had a son.
Michael Bell.
Forty-two.
Successful businessman.
Major donor.
And present at the conservatory reception.
Valentina remembered him.
He had stood near the eastern doors.
Watching.
“Arthur wanted Michael to inherit.”
Celeste nodded.
“And to make that happen, he needed Victor and you eliminated.”
Valentina finally understood the architecture of the entire evening.
Victor was supposed to fail morally.
Valentina was supposed to be traumatized enough to leave.
Salvatore would have no successor.
Then Arthur could present Michael.
The perfect alternative.
“But Arthur died.”
Celeste looked at her.
“Did he?”
Valentina frowned.
“Victor said—”
“A burned vehicle was found.”
“Body?”
“Unidentified.”
Valentina's pulse quickened.
Arthur might still be alive.
Her phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
She answered.
Arthur's voice.
“Good evening, Valentina.”
Celeste went white.
Valentina put the call on speaker.
“You're alive.”
“Very.”
“You used Owen.”
“I used everyone.”
“Why call me?”
“Because Salvatore's fall has begun, thanks to you.”
“You're not replacing him.”
Arthur laughed.
“I don't intend to.”
“Michael?”
Silence.
Then:
“You learn quickly.”
Valentina looked at Celeste.
“What do you want?”
“For you to leave.”
“I was already planning to.”
“Then we're aligned.”
“No.”
Valentina's voice hardened.
“You endangered my child. We will never be aligned.”
Arthur sighed.
“That stubbornness is exactly why Salvatore liked you.”
“Where are you?”
“Far enough away.”
The line went quiet.
Then Arthur added:
“You should ask yourself why Michael hasn't appeared since the reception.”
The call ended.
Valentina looked at the photographs.
One detail caught her attention.
Michael wore the same distinctive ring in every picture.
She had seen that ring recently.
Not at the conservatory.
At the hospital.
On the hand of the man who had signed Owen out with Evelyn.
Evelyn had not taken Owen alone.
May you like
Michael had been there.
And suddenly Valentina understood that the threat to her son had never ended.
