Chapter 5 - The Bride Had Been Lying to Everyone
Leo returned to the wedding suite.
Beatrice was waiting.
She had removed her jewelry.
Her wedding dress was still on.
She stood near the balcony doors with a glass of wine.
“You came.”
“I did.”
She turned.
“Where is Dominic?”
“I don't know.”
“Then you didn't tell him.”
Leo watched her.
“You knew about Genevieve.”
Beatrice smiled.
“Of course.”
“You knew she was innocent.”
“Yes.”
The answer was so casual it made him sick.
“Why?”
“Because she was in my way.”
“You destroyed her.”
“No.”
Beatrice took a sip.
“My father did.”
“You helped.”
“I survived.”
Leo stared at her.
“You don't love me.”
She laughed.
“Love doesn't build empires.”
“I thought you wanted a life with me.”
“I wanted what came with you.”
The honesty was devastating.
Leo's hand tightened.
“What did you do with the shipping information?”
“I gave it to Hastings.”
Leo went still.
“Why?”
“To make sure your family couldn't interfere.”
“Beatrice.”
She looked at him.
“Do you know what your brother did wrong?”
“What?”
“He thought power meant money.”
She smiled.
“Real power is information.”
Leo's eyes filled with disgust.
“You used me.”
“Yes.”
“You used my brother.”
“Yes.”
“And you ruined Genevieve.”
“Yes.”
“How many lives?”
Beatrice looked away.
“Don't make this theatrical.”
“You're a monster.”
She slapped him.
He did not move.
She raised her hand again.
He caught it.
“That ends now.”
For the first time, Beatrice looked frightened.
Leo left.
But he took something with him.
A small recorder.
Hidden in his pocket.
He had started recording the moment she admitted everything.
Downstairs, Dominic listened to the audio.
Vincent stood beside him.
“Enough to destroy her?”
“Not alone.”
Dominic looked toward the staircase.
“Enough to make her panic.”
Martha had survived.
Elliot had given a statement.
But they needed someone above Hastings.
Someone who could not simply disappear evidence.
They needed Senator Charles Hastings exposed.
Genevieve spent the night studying the financial files.
She found patterns nobody else had seen.
“This is bigger than the Sterling companies.”
Dominic stood over her shoulder.
“How big?”
“Federal contracts.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning Hastings has been moving public money through private infrastructure projects.”
She pointed to a spreadsheet.
“Look at these dates.”
Funds were approved for port renovations.
The work was never completed.
Money flowed through shell companies.
Then into campaign funds.
Then overseas.
“Why use Sterling?”
“Because Sterling controlled the logistics.”
“And why use your name?”
“To make it look like internal embezzlement.”
Genevieve zoomed in.
Then stopped.
“What?”
Dominic asked.
She pointed to one account.
A beneficiary appeared under a name neither had expected.
Lucien Costello Foundation.
Dominic's family charity.
He stared.
“What is that?”
“I don't know.”
Genevieve checked the date.
The account had been created fourteen years earlier.
Dominic was twenty-two.
His father had still been alive.
“Your father knew.”
Dominic's expression went cold.
“My father may have been involved.”
“Not necessarily.”
Genevieve clicked another file.
The foundation funds had been diverted.
But the outgoing transfers were authorized by one individual.
Not Dominic's father.
Not Dominic.
A young accountant.
The account belonged to a woman named Sofia March.
Dominic stared.
“Sofia?”
Genevieve looked at him.
“Who is she?”
“My mother’s former assistant.”
“Where is she?”
“Dead.”
“Again?”
Dominic ignored the comment.
Sofia had died in a car accident twelve years earlier.
Two years before Dominic's father.
Three years before Genevieve was framed.
The pattern was beginning to resemble a graveyard.
Everyone who had known the truth had either disappeared, died, or been discredited.
Genevieve looked up.
“There is one person still alive.”
“Who?”
“The bank compliance officer who froze this account.”
Dominic nodded.
“Find her.”
They found her in Boston.
Her name was Clara Bennett.
She agreed to meet.
But before they arrived, her house was attacked.
The police found no suspect.
Clara was missing.
On her kitchen table was a single photograph.
Dominic.
Genevieve.
At Oheka Castle.
The message was obvious.
Stop.
Genevieve looked at Dominic.
“They are watching us.”
Dominic looked at the photograph.
“No.”
He turned it over.
Written on the back were six words.
You are getting warmer, Mr. Costello.
Dominic smiled.
It was not a pleasant smile.
“They're watching us because they're scared.”
Genevieve looked at him.
“You enjoy this.”
“No.”
He put the photograph down.
“I enjoy knowing who I'm supposed to be angry with.”
That night, Genevieve finally admitted something else.
“When you first asked me to come to the wedding, I thought you were arrogant.”
“I am.”
“I thought you were using me.”
“I was.”
She stared.
“At least you're honest.”
“I changed my mind.”
“When?”
“The moment you walked into that ballroom and every person who ever hurt you realized you were no longer alone.”
Genevieve's expression softened.
“Dominic.”
He stepped closer.
She did not move.
“You're dangerous,” she whispered.
“So are you.”
Their faces were inches apart.
Then Genevieve stepped back.
“We haven't finished the war.”
“No.”
“But when we do?”
Dominic held her gaze.
“When we do, I'll ask you again.”
“What?”
“To stay.”
She didn't answer.
May you like
She didn't need to.
Her eyes did.
