Chapter 4 - THE FIRST LIE|
Celeste found Adrienne in the library at two fifteen that afternoon.
He had removed his stained shirt and changed into a dark sweater. His wedding guests had been sent to the adjoining reception hall, where the event coordinator was attempting to transform a ruined ceremony into a delayed celebration.
The cake had been cleared away.
The broken crystal had been collected.
The estate looked almost normal again.
Almost.
Celeste entered with red eyes and a carefully folded handkerchief.
“Are you going to make me stand outside like a criminal?”
Adrienne closed the folder on his desk.
“I didn't ask you to stand outside.”
“You asked security to watch me.”
“I asked security to watch everyone.”
“Everyone?” Her voice sharpened. “Including your staff? Including that girl who attacked our wedding?”
“She says she saw you receive a vial from a man in the kitchen.”
Celeste stared at him.
Then she gave a disbelieving laugh.
“Do you hear yourself? A maid claims she saw something, and you interrogate your bride?”
“I asked you a question.”
“No. You accused me.”
“I haven't accused anyone.”
“You have ruined our wedding because you trust a servant who has been working here for five years over the woman you're supposed to marry.”
Adrienne studied her face.
“What was in the vial?”
“I don't know.”
“Why was a stranger handing you a vial?”
“He was a supplier.”
“For what?”
Celeste blinked.
It was the smallest hesitation, but Adrienne noticed it.
“Flowers,” she answered. “A private vendor. He was delivering a treatment for the arrangements.”
“Then we should be able to identify him.”
“Of course.”
“What's his name?”
“I don't remember.”
Adrienne's expression changed.
“You don't remember the name of a man who met you privately on your wedding day?”
Celeste stepped closer.
“I have spent months arranging this day. I have dealt with photographers, caterers, donors, your business partners, and a hundred people who believe they deserve my attention. I was exhausted.”
“That's understandable.”
“Then stop treating me like a suspect.”
She reached for his hand.
He let her take it, but he did not close his fingers around hers.
The gesture wounded her more than she expected.
For months, she had controlled the pace of their relationship. She knew when to soften her voice, when to tease him, and when to withdraw affection just long enough to make him reach for it.
Now Adrienne watched her as if she were a stranger standing in his doorway.
“Tell me something,” he said. “Did you know the cake might be dangerous?”
“No.”
“Did you intend to harm me?”
“Absolutely not.”
The answer came too quickly.
Adrienne's eyes narrowed.
Celeste noticed.
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
“You're frightened,” she whispered. “I understand. But don't let that woman turn you against me.”
She left the library before he could answer.
In the corridor, she found Victor waiting beside a service entrance.
His sunglasses were gone. Without them, he looked older, with pale eyes and a thin scar along his jaw.
“You said the staff wouldn't be a problem,” she hissed.
“I said they weren't part of the arrangement.”
“That girl saw you.”
“Then you should have made sure she couldn't identify me.”
Celeste's hand tightened around her bouquet.
“Do not speak to me like that.”
Victor glanced toward the library.
“Your groom is asking questions. I suggest you decide whether you want to be married to him or inherit from him.”
She slapped him.
The sound echoed through the corridor.
Victor barely moved.
“You think you can threaten me?” she whispered.
“No,” he replied. “I think you can threaten yourself perfectly well without my help.”
He walked away.
Celeste stood motionless until a housemaid appeared at the far end of the corridor.
Then she smiled as though nothing had happened.
That evening, she entered the bridal suite and locked the door.
Inside her dressing case lay the paperwork she had prepared for Adrienne's death. The forms were arranged in a neat stack, each signature tab marked with a pale blue ribbon.
She had intended to sign the final documents after the ceremony.
Now she took out her phone and called the attorney who had prepared them.
“Everything needs to be ready tonight,” she said.
“Is Mr. Hawthorne aware of the transfer?”
“No.”
“Then we need to discuss the risks.”
“There are no risks.”
She looked at herself in the mirror.
For the first time, she could see the fear beneath her practiced expression.
“Just prepare the documents,” she ordered.
When she ended the call, she noticed a tiny red light blinking on the room's security panel.
She stared at it.
Then she crossed the room and unplugged the unit.
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Somewhere inside Ashford Estate, someone might have recorded her first lie.
And Celeste had no intention of letting that recording survive until morning.
