Chapter 7 - The Midnight Delivery
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Celeste took a step closer, removing her sunglasses to glare at me.
“Grant has tolerated Sophie’s childish attachment to you and that garage for years, but his patience has limits,” Celeste warned, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “Your daughter’s ultimate comfort and position in society depend entirely on his success. A good mother would make the necessary sacrifice without argument.”
“A good husband,” I countered, locking eyes with her, “would not require his wife’s mother to surrender her sole property just to keep him solvent.”
For the first time, I saw genuine unease flicker behind Celeste's contempt.
“You have absolutely no idea how complex corporate companies work,” she scoffed, trying to regain the upper hand.
“You might be surprised,” I said smoothly.
She leaned in, dropping the pretense entirely. “Sign the deed, Vivian. You do not want Sophie to be blamed when this financial situation becomes highly unpleasant.”
It was not quite a direct threat, but it was close enough to reveal that Celeste knew significantly more about Grant’s business dealings than she intended to admit.
“I will consider your offer,” I said, keeping my expression totally blank.
“Do not consider it for long,” she snapped.
She turned on her heel and left without saying goodbye. I watched the black Mercedes disappear down the street, then picked up my phone and called Elias.
“Add Celeste Ashford to the forensic investigation,” I ordered. “Look for any financial ties.”
Later that night, long after the streetlamps had flickered on, Sophie came to my house. She parked her car with the headlights completely off and remained sitting in the dark vehicle for almost a full minute before finally coming inside.
Her face looked completely drained of blood, and expensive concealer could not entirely hide the dark, exhausted shadows beneath her eyes. She carried a large canvas tote bag clutched tightly against her chest.
Without removing her coat, she reached into the bag and pulled out a heavy, dark wooden box secured by a thick brass lock.
“I need you to keep this for me,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“What is it, Sophie?” I asked, taking the heavy box from her hands.
“Household documents,” she replied quickly, her eyes darting nervously toward the kitchen windows. “Grant has been asking for the key all week. He thought I kept it hidden in my desk, but I told him I lost it. Last night, he searched my entire closet while he thought I was asleep. This morning, he aggressively interrogated the housekeeper about whether I had taken anything to you.”
A cold chill moved through my veins. “Why didn’t you just leave the house, Sophie?”
“And go where, Mom?” she asked, a desperate edge to her voice. “If I leave suddenly, he’ll know for sure I took it. He completely controls all the bank accounts, and the cars are registered to his company. He tells everyone I’m unstable. He has told all our friends that I forget things and become deeply confused. If I accuse him of something without hard proof, they will all believe him.”
This was the very first time she had spoken so plainly about her reality. The raw confession appeared to terrify her.
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“You can stay here,” I offered instantly, stepping toward her. “Tonight. For as long as necessary. I won't let him near you.”
She shook her head frantically. “No. Not yet. Please, Mom. Just hide the box for me.”
