Chapter 5 - The emerald trap
The heavy, stifling heat of the summer pressed down on the estate, mirroring the suffocating tension inside its walls. Celeste paced the length of her guest suite, her emerald silk robe trailing behind her. It had been four days since she had made the call to her investigator, and the silence was driving her mad.
Finally, a discreet ping sounded from her encrypted phone.
She lunged for it, her manicured fingers swiping across the screen with frantic energy. It was a secure file transfer. She opened the document, her eyes scanning the digital pages rapidly. A slow, triumphant smile spread across her perfect face.
It was a bank ledger. An offshore account in the Cayman Islands, opened under the name Evelyn Moretti, exactly one week before the custody papers were supposedly signed. The account showed a single, massive deposit: ten million dollars. But what made Celeste’s heart race was the activity. The account hadn't sat dormant. Small, regular withdrawals had been made over the last eight years.
"She’s alive," Celeste whispered to the empty room. "He didn't kill her. He’s paying her off. A monthly stipend to stay away and keep her mouth shut."
This was exactly the ammunition she needed. The syndicate, the ruling council of the underworld that Victor answered to in matters of profound business, prized loyalty and honor above all else. If they knew Victor was secretly funneling millions to a loose end—a woman who could testify against him, a woman who wasn't truly out of the picture—they would see it as a massive liability. Victor’s position as the untouchable boss would be severely compromised.
Celeste quickly formulated a plan. She wouldn't take this to the syndicate, not yet. She would take it to Victor. She would show him the ledger, prove that she held his reputation and his empire in the palm of her hand. She would force him to honor their engagement, to send the brat away to a boarding school, and to give Celeste the power and status she had sacrificed so much to attain.
Downstairs, the house was eerily quiet. Victor was out for the afternoon, attending a high-level meeting at the docks. Ellie was in the solarium with her tutor.
Celeste dressed meticulously, choosing a sharp, tailored white dress that radiated confidence and control. She slipped the printed pages of the ledger into a leather portfolio and walked out of her suite. The guards at the end of the hall watched her but didn't move to stop her as she descended the grand staircase.
She headed straight for the solarium. If she was going to secure her victory, she needed to ensure the child fully understood her place before Victor even returned.
Ellie was sitting at a glass table, a workbook open in front of her, trying to focus on math problems while her tutor explained fractions. When the doors opened and Celeste walked in, the temperature in the room seemed to plummet.
"You may take an early break," Celeste told the tutor, her tone leaving no room for argument.
The tutor, a young woman who knew better than to cross the boss’s fiancée, quickly gathered her things and practically ran from the room, leaving Ellie alone with the woman who haunted her nightmares.
Ellie shrank back in her chair, her small hands gripping the edge of the glass table.
"Don't look at me like that, you little brat," Celeste snapped, stepping closer, the heels of her shoes clicking sharply against the tile floor. She leaned over the table, bringing her beautiful, terrifying face close to Ellie’s. "Your father is living a lie. He bought you. He bought your mother's absence. But the truth always comes out, Ellie. And when it does, he won't be able to protect you anymore."
Ellie’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn't cry out. She remembered her father's promise. You are a Moretti.
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"My Papa loves me," Ellie whispered fiercely.
Celeste let out a cold, mocking laugh. "He loves his empire. And I am going to make sure he has to choose. Enjoy the house while you can, little girl. Because after tonight, everything changes."
