Chapter 13
Margaux requested mediation before the civil trust case went further.
Benedict agreed only because Grant recommended it.
She entered the conference room without the polished arrogance she once carried through Carrow events.
No red dress.
No diamonds beyond her wedding ring.
She looked tired.
“I was protecting Cecily.”
Benedict said nothing.
Margaux continued.
“Julian died with less than everyone thinks.”
“I know.”
“You have companies. Property. Cash. Posy will inherit from you eventually.”
“That does not make her grandfather’s trust Cecily’s.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand numbers.”
“You never had to wonder whether your child would become irrelevant after you died.”
Benedict’s expression changed.
“Cecily was never irrelevant.”
“To you, maybe.”
Margaux shook her head.
“Your father worshipped the Carrow line, but he still divided everything evenly between branches. You know what that meant after Julian died?”
“What?”
“That Cecily had half a legacy and no father powerful enough to defend it.”
Benedict leaned back.
“So you took from Posy.”
“I equalized.”
Grant stopped writing.
Benedict stared at her.
“That word matters.”
Margaux realized too late what she had admitted.
She continued anyway.
“I told myself it was temporary at first.”
“Clothes?”
“Yes.”
“Travel?”
“Yes.”
“Your home renovation?”
Her face hardened.
“That house is where Cecily lives.”
“That isn’t the same as Posy benefiting.”
Margaux looked away.
The motive was finally clear.
Fear.
Status.
Entitlement.
She believed Julian’s death had lowered Cecily’s position inside the family.
Rather than accept a trust designed to protect both girls equally, she decided equality itself was unfair because Benedict remained alive, wealthy, and powerful.
Then she spent enough time correcting the imagined unfairness that she stopped seeing Posy as a child.
Posy became a competing branch on a spreadsheet.
Benedict asked:
“Why humiliate her at the birthday?”
Margaux’s eyes filled.
“I knew Grant was bringing the accounting.”
“So?”
“I wanted you angry at the family before you read it.”
Benedict became still.
“If you pulled Posy away from everyone, I thought you might stop caring about the trust. You don’t need the money.”
There it was.
The party cruelty had another purpose.
Push Benedict into rejecting the family emotionally.
Make the inheritance feel beneath him.
Keep him from examining the account long enough for Margaux to survive the audit.
Benedict looked at her.
“You threw a seven-year-old’s cake onto the ground because you hoped I’d become too proud to read financial statements.”
May you like
Margaux said nothing.
That silence ended the mediation.
