Chapter 7 - The Sister Who Knew Too MuchCeleste did not sleep after the gala.
By four in the morning, she had called three lawyers, dismissed her personal assistant, and ordered an internal audit of every transaction connected to Meridian Consulting.
At five, she called Lionel Barr.
He didn't answer.
At six, she tried Serena Pike.
Disconnected.
At seven, she received a message from an anonymous sender.
You should have left the Holloway family alone.
She threw her phone across the room.
It struck the wall and fell onto an antique Persian rug.
For years, Celeste had been certain that everyone around her was weaker than she was.
Her father had been sentimental.
Everett was too obsessed with fairness.
Maren was an outsider.
Lionel Barr was frightened of his own shadow.
Serena Pike was desperate for money.
She had built her influence by understanding what each person feared most.
Her father feared failure.
Everett feared losing family.
Maren feared betrayal.
Lionel feared prison.
Serena feared poverty.
But something had changed.
The people she had manipulated were no longer reacting separately.
They were sharing information.
And that made them dangerous.
At ten that morning, Celeste met a man named Victor Sloane in a private apartment overlooking Central Park.
Victor was a former corporate security contractor who had spent years arranging discreet solutions for powerful clients.
He was not an elegant man.
He was practical.
Cold.
And expensive.
Celeste placed a folder on the table.
“I need you to find Serena Pike.”
Victor examined the photograph.
“What do you want done?”
“I want to know who she's talking to.”
“And then?”
Celeste looked at him.
“Make sure she stops.”
Victor closed the folder.
“That's vague.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I need to know exactly what you're asking.”
Celeste stared at him.
“She's trying to destroy my family.”
Victor remained still.
“That's not an instruction.”
Celeste exhaled angrily.
“Find her. Retrieve whatever documents she's carrying. And make it clear that speaking publicly would be a mistake.”
Victor watched her.
“You're attracting attention.”
“Then be discreet.”
He stood.
“One more thing.”
Celeste looked up.
“Your brother's wife.”
“What about her?”
“Stay away from her.”
Celeste's expression hardened.
“That's none of your concern.”
Victor shook his head.
“A pregnant woman caught in a family financial dispute is the kind of situation that brings more scrutiny than you can imagine. Whatever game you're playing, don't involve her.”
Celeste smiled thinly.
“Thank you for your concern.”
Victor left.
She waited until the door closed.
Then she picked up a second phone.
A man answered.
“Yes?”
“I need another way to handle the Connecticut problem.”
“Ma'am?”
“The wife knows too much.”
On the other side of Manhattan, Everett sat in a modest café with Maren.
It was the first time they had met without attorneys, investigators, or a family emergency surrounding them.
The café was nearly empty.
Rain traced the windows.
Maren ordered chamomile tea.
Everett ordered coffee he never touched.
He had asked whether she would meet him.
She agreed with one condition.
“No business lies.”
Now they sat opposite each other at a small wooden table.
Everett looked at her belly.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like someone installed a bowling ball inside me.”
He smiled faintly.
“She always did have dramatic timing.”
“She gets that from you.”
“Probably.”
Silence followed.
Maren traced the edge of her cup.
“Why didn't you tell me about the foundation?”
Everett took a breath.
“I found your father's name in the financial records. Then I found evidence that the accident investigation might have been manipulated.”
“And you thought I couldn't handle it?”
“I thought if I told you, it would force you to relive the worst thing that ever happened to you.”
“Everett, I relive it every year on the anniversary.”
“I know.”
“No. You knew I was sad. You didn't understand what it meant to spend twelve years wondering whether my father died because he made a mistake.”
Everett's eyes lowered.
“You're right.”
“I needed to know.”
“Yes.”
She studied him.
“Do you know what hurt the most?”
He looked up.
“The lipstick?”
“No.”
He waited.
“It was realizing how long you'd been living a life I wasn't allowed to see.”
Everett swallowed.
Maren continued.
“You came home exhausted. You barely spoke to me. I kept asking what was wrong, and you kept telling me not to worry.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“That if Celeste knew you were involved, she'd target you.”
“She targeted me anyway.”
“I know.”
“And because I didn't understand what was happening, I couldn't protect myself.”
Everett stared at his coffee.
“I made the wrong decision.”
“Yes.”
“I thought being a good husband meant carrying the dangerous things alone.”
Maren looked at him.
“And I thought being a good wife meant trusting you even when my instincts told me something was wrong.”
He met her eyes.
“We were both taught some terrible things about love.”
Maren laughed softly.
“Yes.”
For the first time, the conversation felt honest.
Not easy.
But honest.
Everett reached into his pocket.
He placed a small velvet box on the table.
Maren's wedding ring.
She stared at it.
“I didn't bring this to pressure you,” he said quickly.
“Then why?”
“Because it belongs to you. Whether you ever wear it again is your decision.”
Maren touched the box.
She didn't open it.
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
After a moment, she asked, “What happens if Celeste is convicted?”
Everett looked out the window.
“I don't know.”
“Can you forgive her?”
“I don't think forgiveness is the question right now.”
“What is?”
“Whether I'm willing to let her keep hurting people because she's my sister.”
Maren watched him.
“And?”
“No.”
He looked back at her.
“Not anymore.”
Before she could reply, his phone rang.
Naomi.
Everett answered.
His expression changed immediately.
“What happened?”
He listened.
Then stood.
Maren's stomach tightened.
“Everett?”
He held up a hand.
“Is she safe?”
Another pause.
“Where?”
He ended the call.
“Serena Pike was found.”
Maren went still.
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“At a hospital in Queens. Someone broke into the apartment where she was staying. She escaped, but she's injured.”
Maren stared at him.
“The woman from the photograph?”
“Yes.”
“Did Celeste send someone?”
“We don't know.”
Maren pushed back her chair.
“Then let's ask Serena.”
Everett hesitated.
Maren raised an eyebrow.
He stopped himself.
“Would you like me to arrange a secure meeting?”
She looked at him for a long moment.
Then nodded.
“Yes.”
At the hospital, Serena Pike sat in a bed with a bandage near her eyebrow.
She looked smaller without makeup.
Younger.
Frightened.
When Maren entered, Serena's eyes widened.
“Oh, God.”
Maren stopped beside the bed.
“Hello, Serena.”
Serena looked toward Everett.
Then back at Maren.
“I didn't know what she was planning.”
Maren folded her arms.
“You were paid to make my husband look unfaithful.”
Serena began crying.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Celeste said she needed to teach him a lesson.”
“What lesson?”
“She said he was getting distracted. That your marriage was interfering with family business.”
Everett's face hardened.
Serena continued.
“She gave me the hotel schedule. Told me where he'd be. I was supposed to approach him, say something about his father, and leave lipstick on his shirt.”
Maren felt her throat tighten.
“You deliberately touched his collar.”
Serena nodded.
“Yes.”
“Did he kiss you?”
“No.”
Everett exhaled.
Serena looked directly at Maren.
“He pulled away. He told me to stop.”
Maren closed her eyes.
The sentence should have made her happy.
Instead, it made her furious.
So much pain.
So much grief.
So much fear.
All because someone wanted a photograph.
Serena continued.
“Celeste had someone waiting with a camera. She said the pictures would make you leave.”
“And the shirt?” Maren asked.
Serena wiped her face.
“I was told not to worry about it. She said it would reach you.”
Everett frowned.
“How?”
Serena looked confused.
“I don't know.”
Maren remembered the hotel laundry tag.
The shirt had returned from the Ashcroft Hotel's laundry service in a garment bag.
She had found it after Everett wore it again.
Someone must have ensured that the lipstick remained visible instead of being cleaned.
Someone with access to the laundry service.
Or to their penthouse.
Everett seemed to reach the same conclusion.
He turned toward Naomi.
“Check the household staff access logs.”
Naomi nodded.
Serena gripped Maren's hand suddenly.
“There's something else.”
Maren stiffened.
“What?”
“Celeste wasn't only interested in the divorce.”
“We know.”
Serena shook her head.
“No. I heard her talking to someone after she paid me.”
“Who?”
“A man. I didn't see him.”
“What did she say?”
Serena's voice shook.
“She said the marriage needed to collapse before the baby arrived.”
Maren felt cold.
“Why?”
Serena swallowed.
“Because after the birth, the paperwork would become much harder to change.”
Everett's expression darkened.
Serena began trembling.
“And then the man asked what would happen if you didn't cooperate.”
Maren held perfectly still.
“What did she say?”
Serena looked at her with terror.
“She said there were other ways to make a mother sign.”
Silence fell.
Everett's hands curled into fists.
Naomi immediately stepped into the hallway to contact the investigators.
Maren slowly pulled her hand away from Serena's.
Her baby kicked.
She rested her palm over the movement.
All this time, she had feared the destruction of her marriage.
Now she understood that her marriage had only been the doorway.
May you like
Someone was coming for her daughter's future.
And the woman behind it had already shown that three deaths, one ruined reputation, and an attempted cover-up were not enough to stop her.
