Chapter 8 - The Father Who Lied
Camille went.
Not alone.
Adrien was simply not visible.
Henri had underestimated the difference.
Camille entered Ardan House carrying the ledger.
The ballroom was dark except for construction lamps.
Celeste sat near the fireplace.
Her hands were free.
Henri stood beside her.
“Where’s Adrien?”
“Not here.”
Henri studied Camille.
“You always were a terrible liar.”
“Occupational hazard.”
Celeste looked furious rather than frightened.
“My father has lost his mind.”
“I’m trying to save you,” Henri snapped.
“You keep saying that while ruining my life.”
Henri flinched.
Camille held up the ledger.
“Let her leave.”
“First give me that.”
“Why?”
“Because Margot wants it.”
“And you work for Margot.”
Henri laughed bitterly.
“No. I have spent nineteen years trying to survive her.”
He confessed.
His affair with Margot had begun before Celeste was born.
Margot manipulated him into investing in Evelyn’s company so she could monitor the investigation.
When Henri realized what she was doing, he tried to withdraw.
Margot threatened his family.
Evelyn discovered the affair.
Then she died.
Henri had lived with the belief that his cowardice helped kill her.
“You arranged Adrien and Celeste?”
“I introduced opportunities. That’s all.”
Celeste’s face twisted.
“You used me.”
“I thought marriage would satisfy her.”
“Why?”
“Because she wanted access.”
“To what?” Camille asked.
Henri looked at the floor.
“The Kovac archive.”
Adrien’s family maintained private corporate records dating back decades.
Marriage would give Celeste limited family access.
Margot intended to exploit it.
Camille lowered the ledger.
“So the wedding wasn’t the end.”
“No.”
“It was the door.”
“Yes.”
A noise came upstairs.
Henri panicked.
“She’s here.”
Camille froze.
“Margot?”
Henri nodded.
“She told me to bring you.”
“You said you wanted the ledger.”
“She doesn’t.”
“Then what does she want?”
Henri looked at Camille.
“You.”
Footsteps sounded on the staircase.
Margot Vane appeared.
Elegant.
Calm.
Almost sixty.
She smiled at Camille.
“You look like Marianne.”
Camille’s skin crawled.
Adrien listened through the hidden transmitter in Camille’s coat from a van outside.
Margot approached.
“I wondered whether you would choose this house.”
“You manipulated the listing.”
“I made sure you saw it. Choosing was yours.”
“What do you want?”
“To finish what your mother interrupted.”
Margot revealed the final truth of the ledger.
It did not merely document stolen money.
It proved Viktor’s father had created an illegal fund controlled through bearer instruments.
Those assets had grown enormously.
Hundreds of millions.
Viktor had tried to dismantle them.
Margot believed they were her inheritance.
“But the access key was divided,” she said.
“One part went to Viktor. One to Evelyn. One to Marianne.”
Camille understood.
“My mother left mine here.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Margot smiled.
“That is why you’re useful.”
Adrien’s voice suddenly came through the dark.
“She’s useful for far more than that.”
Lights snapped on.
Security flooded the room.
Margot did not flinch.
She had expected him.
“Adrien.”
“Margot.”
“You canceled your wedding.”
“Yes.”
“For her?”
“No.”
Camille looked at him.
Adrien’s gaze never left Margot.
“I canceled it because marrying someone I didn’t love would have been dishonest.”
Margot smiled.
“Viktor said similar things.”
“I’m not Viktor.”
“No.”
Her eyes moved to Camille.
“That is what worries me.”
Police entered behind Tomas.
Margot finally seemed surprised.
Adrien had not brought his own justice.
He had brought lawful warrants.
Evidence.
Financial investigators.
Margot’s confidence cracked.
Henri surrendered immediately.
Celeste walked away from him without looking back.
As officers approached Margot, she laughed.
“You still don’t understand.”
Adrien said nothing.
Margot looked at Camille.
“Ask why Marianne’s access key was never found.”
Camille frowned.
Margot smiled wider.
“Because Marianne gave it to the one person nobody suspected.”
An officer took her arm.
Before she was led away, Margot looked toward the doorway.
Someone had just entered.
Camille turned.
May you like
Samuel Voss stood there.
In his hand was Marianne Arden’s missing key.
