Chapter 3
I went upstairs with Marcus on video call and two security guards behind me.
Celeste tried to follow.
I stopped her at the bottom of the stairs.
“You stay there.”
“This is my home.”
“Not anymore.”
Her face twisted.
“You can’t throw me out.”
I looked at Marcus on the screen.
He heard every word.
Then I looked back at Celeste.
“Watch me.”
Ava’s bedroom was at the end of the east hallway.
The door had a new lock.
A keypad.
I had not authorized it.
One of the guards opened it with a master override.
The room smelled stale.
Curtains closed.
Sheets stripped from the bed.
No phone.
No laptop.
No pictures.
Every photo of Ava with Elena had been removed from the walls.
In the corner sat a narrow cot.
Beside it, folded uniforms.
Maid uniforms.
My stomach turned.
Ava stood behind me wrapped in my jacket.
“I slept there,” she whispered.
I turned.
“You didn’t sleep in your bed?”
She shook her head.
“Celeste said the bed was for family.”
For a second, my vision went dark.
Marcus’s voice came through the phone.
“Victor, document everything.”
I forced myself to breathe.
Photos.
Video.
The lock.
The cot.
The uniforms.
The missing belongings.
Then Maria appeared at the doorway holding a small wooden box.
“Sir,” she whispered. “Miss Ava asked me to hide this.”
Ava’s face crumpled.
“My mom’s letters.”
I took the box gently.
Inside were letters from Elena.
Birthday notes.
Photos.
A silver necklace.
A tiny recorder.
Ava grabbed the recorder.
“She took this from me,” she said. “I got it back.”
“What is it?”
Ava looked at Celeste downstairs.
Then at me.
“I recorded her.”
Marcus went silent on the phone.
Ava pressed play.
Celeste’s voice filled the room.
“By the time Victor returns, he will believe you are unstable. He already thinks grief made you difficult.”
Ava’s voice answered, shaking.
“My dad loves me.”
Celeste laughed.
“Your father loves peace. I give him peace. You give him problems.”
My knees nearly failed.
The recording continued.
“Once the trustees see you are unfit, your mother’s inheritance can be managed by me until you turn twenty-five.”
Inheritance.
Elena’s trust.
The money Elena left for Ava.
I looked at Marcus.
His face had gone hard.
Celeste had not only wanted Ava humiliated.
She wanted her declared unstable.
She wanted control of the trust.
She wanted my daughter broken enough to profit from.
Ava whispered, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
May you like
I pulled her into my arms.
“No,” I said. “I’m sorry I made you survive long enough to need proof.”
