LOGINCeleste’s pov I read the text three times before my hands stopped shaking enough to put the phone down. Enjoy tonight. It’s the last peaceful one you’ll get before everyone in that house finds out exactly who you really are.I didn’t sleep. By the time morning light crept through my window, I’d convinced myself the board session would be the least of my problems.I found Gregory in the hallway outside the dining room, dressed sharp for the meeting, his face already carrying the exhaustion of a man who hadn’t slept either, he looked up when I approached, and something in his expression made my stomach drop before he even spoke.“Gregory.”“Celeste.” He said my name flat, distant, nothing like the way he’d whispered it against my lips hours earlier. “I need to talk to you.”“Okay.”“About last night.” He glanced down the hallway, checking for anyone listening, then lowered his voice further. “It shouldn’t have happened.”The warmth from the night before drained out of my chest all at o
Celeste’s pov “Helena Whitman,” I repeated, staring at the name on the page. “Any relation to Dr. Whitman?”“I don’t know yet.” Gregory’s hands were still shaking. “But it can’t be a coincidence. My mother’s maiden name matches the doctor who’s been running that clinic for thirty years.”“Family,” I said slowly. “Maybe a brother, cousin.”“Which would explain why he’s been so loyal to her for decades.” Gregory closed the folder, pressing his palm flat against it like he could keep the contents contained through sheer will. “I need to know how deep this goes before Thursday.”“I might be able to help with that.”He looked at me sharply. “How?”“I have a contact who’s been investigating the clinic independently, someone with access I don’t have.” I chose my words carefully, protecting Robert’s name until I knew how much I could trust Gregory with. “Let me talk to them first, bring you something concrete instead of more questions.”“Celeste.” He caught my wrist gently. “Whoever this con
Helena’s face went through several emotions at once, shock, fury, and something colder underneath both.“Where did you get access to my personal accounts?”“That’s not the point, Mother.” Gregory’s voice shook with barely contained anger, why were you paying Dr. Whitman three years before I married Amelia?”“You’ve been going through my private records?”“Answer the question.”Helena’s jaw tightened, her composure cracking at the edges for the first time since I’d known her. “It was a donation. To the clinic’s research fund, nothing more.”“A donation.” Gregory’s voice went flat with disbelief. “To a fertility clinic, Three years before your future daughter-in-law ever needed one.”“I don’t have to explain every financial decision I’ve made over the past decade.”“You do when it looks like you were setting something up before Amelia even entered this family.” He stepped closer, phone still raised. “What did you do, Mother?”“I protected this family,” Helena snapped, some of her contro
The lighthouse stood dark against the evening sky, waves crashing against rocks below in a rhythm that made my chest tighten with memory. I parked and walked the path toward the old stone tower, the wind pulling at my hair, and found Gregory already waiting near the base, jacket collar turned up.“You came,” he said.“You said it was important.”“It is.” He studied me for a long moment, something unreadable behind his eyes. “I keep trying to figure out what it is about you that feels this familiar, and every answer I come up with sounds insane.”“Try me.”“Sometimes you move the way she used to move.” His voice dropped, rough. “My wife. Amelia. She used to press her hand flat against her stomach when she was nervous, exactly like you do.”My hand had been resting there without my noticing. I dropped it fast.“That’s probably just a coincidence.”“Probably.” He didn’t sound convinced. “I brought you here to tell you something. About the night she died.”Headlights swept across the coas
We ran.The grandfather moved faster than his cane should have allowed, and I kept pace beside him, my heart hammering from the garden conversation and now this, the staff member led us through the side entrance into the main hall, where a small crowd had already gathered outside Helena’s study.“What happened?” the grandfather demanded.“She collapsed, sir. One of the maids found her on the floor.”I pushed through the doorway before I could think better of it Helena lay on the chaise near her desk, pale, one hand pressed to her chest, Gregory already kneeling beside her, his face tight with something I hadn’t seen on him before, fear.“Mother, can you hear me?”“I’m fine,” Helena rasped, though her voice shook. “Stop hovering.”“You collapsed.”“I got dizzy.” She tried to sit up, and Gregory’s hand pressed gently against her shoulder, holding her still.“Someone call the doctor,” he snapped, not looking away from her.“Already on the way,” a staff member answered from the doorway.
Celeste’s pov The garden behind the east wing sat quiet in the fading light, and I found him there exactly where the text said he’d be, an old man on a stone bench, a cane resting against his knee.“You came,” he said without looking up.“Your message was hard to ignore.”“Sit.” He patted the space beside him.I hesitated, then sat, the cool stone seeping through my dress. For a long moment, neither of us spoke, the garden settling into the kind of silence that only old houses seemed to hold onto.“You’ve caused quite a stir in this house,” he said finally, still watching the sky instead of me. “Two days, and already my grandson can’t stop finding reasons to be near you.”“I don’t know what you mean.”“You know exactly what I mean.” He turned, and his eyes, sharp despite his age, studied my face with an intensity that made my skin crawl. “I’ve lived in this family for seventy years, Celeste. I know what it looks like when a Vale man starts falling for the wrong woman. I watched it ha







