Chapter 3: The Name He Tried to Erase

“Take your hand off her, Richard.”

The voice came from the ballroom entrance.

Richard Vale released my wrist so quickly that his cuff link struck the table.

A silver-haired woman stood between two security guards.

Celeste still held the photograph, but her fingers began to shake.

“Mother?”

Vivian Vale walked past the guards and removed her coat.

“I told them Mara Ellis was my guest,” she said.

“Apparently, your father gave different instructions.”

Richard stepped in front of her.

“Go home, Vivian.”

“No.”

“This is a corporate matter.”

“You made it a family matter twenty-nine years ago.”

Celeste looked from Vivian to me.

“Her name is Mara?”

“Yes,” Vivian said.

“How do you know her?”

Richard reached for the photograph.

Celeste pulled it against her chest.

“I asked you a question, Mother.”

Vivian faced me.

Her eyes moved over my wine-soaked dress, then stopped at the red mark around my wrist.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Celeste gave a bitter laugh.

“You’re apologizing to her?

She just destroyed our company.”

“I exposed your father’s company,” I said.

“There is a difference.”

Richard pointed toward the doors.

“Security, remove her.”

Neither guard moved.

Vivian turned to them.

“Mr.

Vale’s authority was suspended eleven minutes ago.

Check your phones.”

One guard read his screen.

He lowered his hands.

Richard’s voice dropped.

“You planned this with her.”

“I helped her survive it.”

Celeste placed the photograph on the table.

“Enough riddles.

Why are you standing beside Mara in this picture?”

Vivian touched its bent corner.

“Because she came to me six months ago with documents bearing my signature.”

“What documents?”

“Companies I had never heard of.

Accounts I had never opened.

Your father had used my name for years.”

“That’s a lie,” Richard said.

I took out my phone.

“Would you like me to play the recording where your finance director says otherwise?”

“You stole privileged information.”

“Information proving that money was taken from employee retirement accounts.”

Celeste’s lips parted.

“Our retirement fund is protected.”

“On paper,” I said.

“The real money was moved through twelve shell companies.”

She turned to Richard.

“Tell me she’s lying.”

Richard straightened his jacket.

“Your mother is confused, and this woman is using her.”

Vivian removed a slim envelope from her coat.

“Then explain the birth certificate.”

Richard’s hand stopped halfway to the envelope.

Celeste stared at him.

“Whose birth certificate?”

“Mine,” I said.

She looked at the photograph again.

“Why would my mother have yours?”

“She didn’t,” Vivian said.

“I found it locked behind Richard’s private files.”

“Vivian,” Richard warned.

“You put your name on it, Richard.”

The room seemed to shrink around us.

Even the musicians had stopped moving.

Celeste shook her head.

“No.

If his name is there, then Mara is—”

“Your sister,” Vivian said.

Celeste dropped the photograph.

Richard caught her elbow.

“Listen to me.

A signature proves nothing.”

I stepped closer.

“Then take a DNA test.”

“I will not dignify this.”

“You already did,” Vivian said.

“Twenty-nine years ago, when you paid Mara’s mother to disappear.”

Richard’s face hardened.

“You don’t know what that woman did.”

“My mother kept every letter you sent,” I said.

“Including the one promising to ruin her if she ever told me who you were.”

Celeste backed away from him.

“You told me you had never met Mara.”

“I said what was necessary to protect this family.”

“From your own daughter?”

“From scandal.”

Vivian reached for Celeste, but Celeste jerked away.

“You knew?”

“I learned six months ago.”

“And you said nothing to me?”

“I was trying to gather proof.”

“No.

You chose her.”

Vivian’s hand fell.

Richard’s mouth lifted at one corner.

“Now you see what she has done, Celeste.

Mara did not come for justice.

She came to take your place.”

“I don’t want her place,” I said.

“I want back what you took from thousands of families.”

Celeste looked down at the ruined acquisition contract.

“What exactly did he take?”

I opened the photograph’s cardboard backing and pointed to a handwritten number.

“Your mother left me one clue.

It leads to the original pension ledger.”

Richard lunged for the photograph, but Celeste snatched it first.

“Where is it?” he demanded.

She looked at the number and closed her fist around the photograph.

Then she met my eyes.

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“You want the ledger?” she said.

“You’re going to tell me everything first.”