Chapter 4 - The Bride Who Needed Brooke Gone
By midnight, Adrian’s mansion no longer looked like a place preparing for a wedding.
Security officers occupied the foyer.
Two attorneys sat in the library.
Marcus had moved Evelyn into a protected guest suite.
Celeste had been instructed not to leave the property until Adrian’s attorneys determined whether the evidence warranted police involvement.
She responded by locking herself in the master guest wing.
Brooke sat across from Adrian in his private office.
She had changed again.
This time Mrs. Grant had found jeans and a gray sweatshirt.
Brooke had spent most of her adult life feeling self-conscious in elegant rooms.
Tonight, she no longer cared.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” she said.
Adrian looked up from the flash drive.
“Only one?”
“Why Celeste?”
He leaned back.
“You’re asking why my fiancée had evidence related to your identity.”
“Yes.”
“I’m working on that.”
“No.”
Brooke shook her head.
“I mean why does she care?”
Adrian remained quiet.
“Your grandmother’s dead. Your mother’s dead. Your father’s dead. Your older brother is dead.”
His jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
“So why would Celeste care whether Bianca Vale survived?”
Adrian stared at the desk.
Then he looked at her.
“Inheritance.”
Brooke laughed once.
“Of course.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I think I understand enough.”
“No.”
He opened a drawer and removed a thick folder.
“My grandfather created the Vale family trust.”
Brooke frowned.
“He anticipated fights between his children, so he wrote succession rules.”
“And?”
“The controlling shares in Vale Maritime pass to the surviving legitimate children of Beatrice Vale.”
Brooke stared.
“You.”
“And Gabriel.”
“But he died.”
“Yes.”
“So you own everything.”
“I control everything.”
“Difference?”
“A large one.”
Adrian pushed the folder across the desk.
“If Bianca survived, legally she owns thirty-seven percent of the family holding company.”
Brooke did not touch the folder.
“How much is thirty-seven percent worth?”
“Approximately 4.8 billion dollars.”
Brooke stared at him.
Then laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because her brain rejected the number.
“I have seventy-two dollars in checking.”
Adrian’s mouth almost moved.
Almost.
Brooke pointed at him.
“Do not smile.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“Possibly.”
She rubbed her forehead.
“So Celeste thinks I’m going to take billions?”
“If she knew.”
“Why would that matter to her?”
“Because our prenuptial agreement grants her no equity.”
Brooke slowly understood.
“But if she married you…”
“She would have influence.”
“And if you died?”
Adrian’s eyes sharpened.
“A portion passes to my spouse.”
Brooke felt cold.
“Has anyone recently tried to kill you?”
“Not recently.”
She stared.
“That is not a normal answer.”
“My life isn’t normal.”
“No kidding.”
Adrian plugged Wren’s flash drive into an isolated laptop.
Marcus stood behind him.
The drive contained folders labeled by year.
Adrian opened 1988.
Scanned hospital records.
Bianca Vale.
Female infant.
Healthy.
Transferred without maternal consent.
Brooke covered her mouth.
“This proves it?”
“Not alone,” Adrian said.
Marcus pointed.
“There’s a chain-of-custody record.”
They opened another document.
It bore three signatures.
Dr. Leonard Wren.
Margaret Vale.
Caroline Whitaker.
Brooke whispered, “Aunt Carol.”
Adrian opened the 1994 folder.
Letters.
Beatrice Vale to Leonard Wren.
Please tell me where she is.
I know Bianca survived.
My mother admitted enough.
I will pay whatever is necessary.
I only want my daughter back.
Brooke watched Adrian read.
His face became hollow.
“She knew.”
“Yes,” Brooke whispered.
Another letter.
If anything happens to me, Adrian must know.
Brooke looked at him.
He stopped reading.
Marcus looked away.
Adrian closed the file.
“No.”
Brooke understood.
He needed a minute.
She gave him one.
Then Marcus pointed at the 2026 folder.
“Sir.”
There were photographs.
Brooke leaving the Vale mansion.
Brooke grocery shopping.
Brooke visiting her mother.
Brooke sitting alone at a bus stop.
She felt violated.
“These are recent.”
“Last six months,” Marcus said.
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“Celeste and I got engaged seven months ago.”
Brooke looked at him.
“So she knew before today.”
“Yes.”
They opened a spreadsheet.
Payments to a private investigative company.
One account funded them.
Marlowe Strategic Holdings.
Celeste’s family company.
Brooke stood.
“She investigated me.”
“For six months.”
“Why not just tell you?”
Adrian looked grim.
“Because she wasn’t trying to find you.”
Marcus opened another file.
A message thread.
Celeste: Confirm identity before engagement announcement.
Investigator: DNA probability exceeds 99.4%.
Celeste: Nobody else can know.
Investigator: Understood.
Celeste: Find leverage.
Brooke felt nausea rise.
“What leverage?”
Marcus scrolled.
Photographs of unpaid bills.
Her mother’s mortgage.
Her brother’s hospital debt.
Her employment history.
Even an old parking ticket.
Brooke laughed bitterly.
“She spent thousands investigating a parking ticket?”
“She needed reasons to discredit you,” Adrian said.
Marcus scrolled further.
Another message.
Investigator: Nothing criminal. Subject appears clean.
Celeste: Everyone has a price.
Investigator: She doesn’t appear to.
Celeste: Then make one.
Brooke whispered, “Make one?”
Adrian stood.
His chair rolled backward.
Marcus opened the final attachment.
A security report from the Vale mansion.
Three missing items had been attributed to Brooke during the previous month.
A gold watch.
A diamond cuff link.
Cash from a guest bedroom.
Brooke stared.
“Nobody ever accused me.”
“They were never reported officially,” Marcus said.
Adrian’s face darkened.
“Because she was building a file.”
Brooke understood.
Celeste intended to frame her as a thief.
Then fire her.
Discredit her.
Maybe have her arrested.
Anything to make sure that if Bianca Vale was ever discovered, nobody believed her.
Brooke felt fury replacing fear.
“She poured water over me because I found the pendant.”
“Yes.”
“She thought I’d seen the documents.”
“Yes.”
“And she wanted everyone to think I was a dishonest employee before I could speak.”
Adrian nodded.
Brooke sat down.
For the first time since learning who she was, she felt something solid.
Anger.
That she understood.
She could work with anger.
“Where is Celeste?”
“Upstairs.”
“I want to talk to her.”
“No.”
Brooke looked at Adrian.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“I spent thirty-seven years alive without you.”
“That was before people knew who you were.”
“They already knew.”
He stopped.
She pointed at the laptop.
“Celeste knew. Her investigator knew. Wren knew. Maybe other people knew.”
Adrian said nothing.
“You cannot lock me in a room and call it protection.”
“I can if someone is trying to kill you.”
Brooke stood.
“Then find out who.”
She walked toward the door.
“Brooke.”
She turned.
Adrian looked at her for a long moment.
Then nodded.
“Fine.”
Celeste opened her bedroom door after Adrian knocked twice.
She wore silk pajamas and looked composed again.
Until she saw Brooke.
“What is she doing here?”
Brooke stepped forward.
“You knew.”
Celeste’s gaze flickered.
“Knew what?”
“My name.”
“I know your name.”
“My real name.”
Celeste laughed.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
Adrian held up a printout.
Celeste stopped smiling.
“Your investigator confirmed Brooke was Bianca six months ago.”
Celeste’s face changed.
Not guilt.
Calculation.
Then resignation.
“You weren’t supposed to find out yet.”
Brooke stared.
“Yet?”
Celeste looked at Adrian.
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“After the wedding.”
Adrian’s expression was icy.
“Why after?”
“Because I knew what you’d do.”
“What?”
“This.”
She gestured toward Brooke.
“You would become obsessed with saving her.”
Brooke recoiled.
“I don’t need saving.”
Celeste ignored her.
“You’d hand her half the company.”
“It belongs to her.”
“You don’t know that.”
“We have records.”
“Forged records exist.”
“DNA.”
Celeste hesitated.
Adrian saw it.
“You ran DNA.”
She said nothing.
Brooke stared.
“How?”
Celeste’s eyes moved toward Brooke’s hair.
Brooke touched it instinctively.
“You took something from my room.”
“You shed hair everywhere.”
Adrian’s voice dropped.
“You entered staff quarters?”
Celeste scoffed.
“Don’t pretend this is sacred ground.”
Brooke felt rage.
“You stole my DNA.”
“I confirmed a problem.”
Brooke stepped closer.
“I am not a problem.”
Celeste smiled faintly.
“To me, you are.”
Adrian moved between them.
“Explain.”
Celeste looked at him.
“You think this is about money?”
“What else?”
She laughed.
“You still don’t know.”
Adrian stared.
Celeste’s face became almost pitying.
“Your mother didn’t just leave Bianca shares.”
Adrian said nothing.
“She left evidence.”
“What evidence?”
Celeste’s smile returned.
“The kind that could destroy everything your family built.”
Brooke’s stomach tightened.
“Where?”
Celeste glanced toward the hall.
Adrian stepped closer.
“Where is it?”
Celeste whispered, “Leonard has it.”
“Then why are you protecting him?”
Celeste looked directly into Adrian’s eyes.
“Because he isn’t the person you should be afraid of.”
A sound came from downstairs.
Three sharp knocks.
Not the front door.
The private library entrance.
Marcus appeared in the hallway.
His face had gone pale.
“Sir.”
Adrian turned.
“What?”
“We found Dr. Wren.”
Brooke took one step forward.
“Alive?”
Marcus stared at her.
“Yes.”
Relief lasted exactly one second.
Then Marcus added:
“He brought someone with him.”
Adrian’s hand moved toward his jacket.
“Who?”
May you like
Marcus swallowed.
“A woman claiming to be Beatrice Vale.”
