Chapter 2
Celia Bellacourt had not looked like a woman who would disappear quietly.
She was a trial lawyer before she married Rourke.
Sharp.
Dry.
Hard to impress.
She knew Rourke was dangerous before she loved him.
That was part of the tragedy.
She believed he could separate the family’s legal wealth from the criminal empire underneath it.
Rourke believed wanting her to be right was the same as becoming right.
It was not.
After Posie was born, Celia’s patience ended.
She began reviewing household accounts, foundation contracts, and the Bellacourt charitable trust.
Althea hated that.
At the time, Althea was only Rourke’s sister-in-law.
His younger brother had died years earlier, but Althea stayed close to the family because she understood polite society.
Museum boards.
Hospital galas.
Political donors.
Children’s charities.
She made criminal money look like old money without ever dirtying her gloves.
Celia saw through it.
Then she found irregular foundation payments connected to a never-built therapy-dog program for foster children.
The idea sounded lovely.
Dogs.
Children.
Healing.
Donors loved it.
But the money moved through Althea’s preferred vendors, consultants, and event companies.
Celia asked for invoices.
Althea smiled.
“Motherhood has made you suspicious.”
Celia replied:
“Motherhood has made me unavailable for fraud.”
Two months later, Celia vanished.
Althea told Rourke that Celia had been unstable.
That she felt trapped.
That she had locked Posie in the dog kennel during a breakdown and then fled in shame.
Rourke did not want to believe it.
But he had also been warned by Celia that if he kept criminals around their daughter, she would leave.
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So part of him accepted the story because the alternative was worse.
If Celia had not left voluntarily, then someone inside his own house had taken her.
