Chapter 9 - The true architect
Celeste stood frozen as the reality of her total ruin settled over her. But as she looked at Alexander, a dark, bitter smile suddenly tugged at the corner of her lips.
"You think you're the master strategist, don't you?" Celeste whispered, stepping closer to his table, her voice laced with venomous spite. "You think you spent twenty years building an empire just to destroy us?"
Alexander remained still, watching her closely.
"My father didn't act alone twenty years ago, Alexander," Celeste sneered quietly, leaning down so only he could hear. "He was a mid-level banker back then. He didn't have the power to liquidate a family like yours on his own."
Alexander’s gray eyes narrowed slightly—the first visible sign of emotion he had shown all night.
"Who gave him the deeds?" Alexander asked, his voice low and dangerous.
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Celeste reached into her silver evening purse, pulled out a small, faded leather-bound diary, and tossed it onto the table beside his watch.
"My grandfather kept records of every bribe, every whisper, every silent partner," Celeste said, her voice dropping to an icy murmur. "My father was just the cleanup man. The person who really signed off on your family's destruction... is sitting in this room right now."
