Part 3: The audit had already left the house.
Part 3
The audit had already left the house.
For the first time since Rowan walked through the front door, Celeste looked afraid.
Not angry.
Not offended.
Afraid.
She stared at me as though she had suddenly realized I had known far more than I ever admitted.
"What audit?" Rowan asked slowly.
I looked at him.
"The audit I requested three days before you came home."
Celeste laughed too quickly.
"That's ridiculous."
"Is it?"
I reached into my handbag and removed a sealed envelope.
"The trustees asked me to review household expenses after several invoices appeared under my name."
Rowan frowned.
"They contacted you?"
"They couldn't reach you overseas."
He looked at Celeste.
"You told me everything was under control."
"It was."
"No," I answered quietly.
"It was under your control."
I slid several copies across the dining table.
Receipts.
Transfers.
Invoices.
Every payment carried my name.
Private nursing.
Luxury transportation.
Designer maternity clothing.
Personal chef.
Massage therapy.
None of them had ever reached me.
Rowan flipped through the pages.
His expression darkened with every sheet.
"Abigail never hired these services."
"I know," he whispered.
"The signatures..."
"They're forged."
Silence settled over the room.
Even Lena stopped breathing.
Rowan picked up another invoice.
"$12,800 for private prenatal monitoring."
He looked around the house.
"Where?"
I smiled sadly.
"I'd like to know that too."
Celeste crossed her arms.
"Anyone could have forged paperwork."
I looked directly at her.
"Unfortunately for you..."
"...someone also forged my signature."
Her confidence cracked.
"The trustees compared every signature."
I placed another folder beside the invoices.
"The handwriting expert's report."
Rowan opened it.
Page after page.
Professional analysis.
Stroke comparisons.
Pressure points.
Writing speed.
Final conclusion.
The signatures had been written by Celeste Armand.
Rowan slowly lowered the report.
"You forged my wife's name?"
Celeste shook her head violently.
"No."
"They're wrong."
"I only signed paperwork because Abigail was resting."
"You signed legal reimbursement requests."
"I was helping."
"You stole."
"I borrowed."
"There is no borrowing from a trust."
She backed away.
"You don't understand."
"I understand perfectly."
Rowan's voice had become frighteningly calm.
"You stole money intended for my pregnant wife."
She swallowed.
"I managed the house."
"You emptied the accounts."
"I deserved compensation."
"You paid yourself."
She suddenly pointed at me.
"She wanted everyone to think she was helpless!"
"I never said that."
"She manipulated you!"
Rowan didn't even look at me.
He continued reading.
"There are twelve payments."
Another page.
"There are jewelry purchases."
Another.
"Vacation deposits."
Another.
"Hotel reservations."
Another.
"Luxury handbags."
Every expense carried one description.
Prenatal Care.
Rowan closed the folder.
"You spent nearly ninety thousand dollars while Abigail cleaned your wine off the floor."
Celeste's breathing became uneven.
"I can explain."
"So can accountants."
She grabbed his arm.
"I've been taking care of this family for years."
"You've been robbing it."
"No!"
"You isolated my wife."
"No!"
"You stopped her medical appointments."
"I was protecting the baby."
"You left my pregnant wife scrubbing marble floors while billing the trust for nurses that never existed."
Tears suddenly appeared in Celeste's eyes.
"You always loved her more."
The room froze.
Rowan stared at his sister.
"What did you just say?"
She realized too late.
"I..."
"You weren't protecting this family."
"You don't understand."
"You were jealous."
She burst into tears.
"Ever since she married you!"
There it was.
Not money.
Not duty.
Not responsibility.
Jealousy.
Every cruel order.
Every insult.
Every bruise hidden beneath long sleeves.
Every cancelled doctor's appointment.
Every stolen dollar.
Every lie.
It had all begun with envy.
Rowan slowly stepped away from her.
"I trusted you."
"I know."
"I left my pregnant wife in your care."
"I never meant—"
"You inspected bruises on her arm."
Celeste couldn't answer.
Because she knew he had seen everything.
Not only the bruises.
But the woman she had become.
Rowan turned toward Lena.
"Lena."
"Yes, sir."
"Call security."
Celeste's head snapped upward.
"No."
"Call the trustees."
"No!"
"And call our attorneys."
She rushed toward Rowan.
He stepped back before she could touch him.
"For the first time in your life," he said quietly,
"you'll have to answer for yourself."
Celeste looked at me with absolute hatred.
"You planned this."
I placed one hand over my baby.
"No."
"You did."
"I simply stopped protecting yours."
Outside, black SUVs rolled through the front gate.
The trustees had arrived.
May you like
And they weren't coming to dinner.
They were coming for Celeste.
