Chapter 10 - The Son Warren Intended to Sacrifice)
Preston stared at the document as though it had been written in another language.
"That's not true."
Naomi handed him a copy.
"Read clause eleven."
Warren stepped toward him.
"Give me that."
Marco blocked him.
"Don't."
Warren looked at Marco.
"Get out of my way."
"No."
Preston read.
His lips moved silently.
Then stopped.
He looked at his father.
"You said the proxy came to me."
"It does."
"No."
"Preston."
"It goes to Hale Strategic."
"Which protects the family."
"You own Hale Strategic."
Warren lowered his voice.
"This is not the place."
Preston laughed once.
A hollow sound.
"No. Apparently this is exactly the place."
Giulietta watched the alliance fracture in real time.
For weeks she had imagined Preston and Warren as a single machine.
But control based on fear rarely produced loyalty.
It produced hierarchy.
And Preston had just discovered he was lower in that hierarchy than he believed.
Warren turned to Giulietta.
"You think this changes anything?"
"It changes my wedding."
"There is no wedding."
"Correct."
His face tightened.
"You've humiliated my son."
Giulietta looked at the golf club.
"He managed that himself."
Warren stepped closer.
Marco immediately moved.
Warren stopped.
"You Marconis think you're untouchable."
Marco answered calmly.
"No."
He glanced toward Naomi.
"We just keep attorneys nearby."
Warren's eyes flicked toward the hallway.
He was calculating exits now.
Naomi saw it.
"Mr. Hale, you should know federal investigators were notified this morning regarding documents provided by Patrick Dorsey."
Warren's expression barely changed.
"Patrick Dorsey is an embezzler."
"Then you'll enjoy explaining that."
"He forged everything."
Naomi smiled.
"The server records disagree."
"They can be manipulated."
"So can medical reports."
Silence.
Celeste stepped into the suite.
Warren looked at her.
For fourteen years she had apparently existed for him only as a story he controlled.
A vanished unstable wife.
A shameful chapter.
An inconvenient ghost.
Now she stood ten feet away.
"You look well," Warren said.
Celeste almost smiled.
"Disappointed?"
"No."
"You always were a poor liar."
Warren's jaw tightened.
Preston watched them.
"Mom."
She looked at him.
He seemed suddenly younger.
Not innocent.
Never that.
But disoriented.
"Did Dad drug you?"
Celeste did not answer immediately.
"Yes."
Warren laughed.
"Still telling that story."
Celeste looked at her son.
"He put sedatives in my wine."
"Prove it," Warren said.
Celeste reached into Naomi's case.
She removed a yellowed laboratory report.
"I finally can."
Warren stopped breathing.
Celeste held the document.
"My sister kept blood samples from the hospital."
Naomi continued.
"They were retested last month using modern analysis."
Giulietta looked at Celeste.
This was new.
Celeste had kept it secret even from her.
Naomi spoke.
"The sample contained a sedative Celeste had never been prescribed."
Warren shrugged.
"That proves nothing."
"It proves your old story was false."
"No. It proves she took something."
Celeste lifted another page.
"And this proves who purchased it."
Warren stared.
"A pharmacy ledger. Your assistant signed for the prescription."
Marco watched Warren carefully.
The older man's face had finally lost control.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Preston sank onto the sofa.
"You knew."
Warren turned.
"Don't be stupid."
"You knew."
"Your mother was unstable."
"You told me she swallowed pills."
"She did."
Celeste shook her head.
"No."
Preston looked sick.
Giulietta felt no sympathy for the man who had threatened her with a golf club.
But she understood the brutal structure of Warren's control.
He had built Preston using lies.
Then rewarded him whenever he repeated them.
Preston stood again.
"You made me testify."
Celeste closed her eyes.
Warren snapped, "You were fourteen."
"You told me what to say."
"Because it was true."
"No."
Preston's voice rose.
"You told me if I didn't say Mom was acting crazy, she'd kill herself."
Celeste covered her mouth.
Giulietta looked at Warren.
The room had become his trial long before any judge entered it.
Warren turned toward the door.
"I'm done with this."
Two men stood in the hallway.
Plain clothes investigators.
Naomi had been waiting for them.
One showed identification.
"Warren Hale?"
Warren stopped.
The investigator continued.
"We need to speak with you regarding Hale Capital and suspected fraudulent authorization documents."
Warren laughed.
"Do you know who my attorney is?"
"You can call him."
"I'm leaving."
"You're not under arrest."
"Then move."
"We would advise you not to destroy records or contact witnesses."
Warren looked toward Patrick's name in Naomi's file.
Giulietta saw the calculation.
Marco saw it too.
Warren walked into the hallway.
Then he turned toward Giulietta.
"This isn't finished."
Giulietta met his eyes.
"For you, I think it's just starting."
Warren left.
The investigator followed.
Preston remained.
The groom.
The club.
The abandoned ring.
The destroyed wedding.
He looked at Giulietta.
"Can we talk?"
"No."
"Alone."
"Absolutely not."
His face twisted.
"You knew this was coming."
"Some of it."
"You set me up."
Giulietta stared at him.
"I asked you not to threaten me."
"You baited me."
"I removed my ring."
"You knew I had the club."
"You brought it."
"You hit me."
"You blocked the door with a weapon."
Preston stepped closer.
Marco moved.
Preston stopped.
He looked at Giulietta.
"You never loved me."
That almost made her angry.
Instead she answered quietly.
"I did."
He froze.
"That's what makes you disgusting."
Silence.
Giulietta continued.
"I loved you when I thought your arrogance was confidence. I loved you when I thought your need to decide things came from wanting to take care of me."
Her throat tightened, but she did not look away.
"I loved you when my mother died and you stayed beside me for three nights."
Preston's expression changed.
"Then don't throw us away."
"You threw us away every time you decided loving me meant owning me."
He looked down.
Giulietta touched the Hale bracelet.
Then removed it.
She handed it to Celeste.
"This belongs to you."
Celeste stared at it.
Her fingers closed around the diamonds.
Preston whispered, "Giulietta."
She turned away.
Then a wedding coordinator appeared at the far end of the hall.
Pale.
Terrified.
"Ms. Marconi?"
Giulietta looked at her.
"There are three hundred guests waiting."
For the first time all day, Giulietta smiled naturally.
"Then we shouldn't keep them waiting."
Marco frowned.
"What are you doing?"
Giulietta lifted the train of her dress.
"I'm going downstairs."
"To do what?"
"Tell the truth."
Naomi immediately objected.
"Public statements can complicate an investigation."
"I won't discuss evidence."
"Then what will you say?"
Giulietta looked toward the staircase.
"That there isn't going to be a wedding."
She started walking.
Behind her, Preston said, "If you humiliate me in front of everyone, I'll never forgive you."
Giulietta stopped.
She turned.
"Preston."
He stared at her.
"I am finally learning how little your forgiveness is worth."
Then she walked toward the ballroom.
But as she reached the staircase, a scream rose from downstairs.
Someone had just discovered that forty eight million dollars had already vanished from a Marconi account.
May you like
The transfer had happened seven minutes earlier.
And the authorization carried Giulietta's real signature.
