Chapter 6 - The Mother’s Desperation
By the second week of my return to Ashcroft Maritime, the legal team had completed its preliminary audit of Adrian’s personal financial transfers.
The results were worse than I had anticipated.
Adrian hadn't just been living lavishly; he had been funding his entire extended family’s extravagant lifestyles through fraudulent subsidiary loans. Marcus had received a four-hundred-thousand-dollar “consulting fee” for a real estate venture that never existed. Celeste had billed six luxury vacations in Tuscany directly to Ashcroft Fleet Management.
On Wednesday afternoon, my security detail informed me that Celeste Vale was in the main lobby of Ashcroft Tower.
She hadn't tried to force her way past the guards this time. She had sat down on one of the velvet waiting benches, wearing an old trench coat and no jewelry, looking frail and defeated.
I allowed her to come up to my office on the fiftieth floor.
When Celeste stepped into the vast, wood-paneled corner office, she didn't look like the arrogant matriarch who had told me to “leave with dignity” ten days ago. Her silver hair was messy, her eyes were bloodshot, and her hands shook as she clutched an old leather purse.
“Eleanor,” Celeste whispered, stopping near the center of the plush rug.
I stayed seated behind my mahogany desk, reviewing a logistics contract for the Tokyo shipping lanes. “Hello, Celeste. Take a seat.”
She sat down on the edge of the leather armchair, her posture rigid.
“I... I came to talk about the eviction notice,” Celeste said, her voice trembling. “The sheriff’s office delivered a formal lockout order for my apartment in Tacoma. They said I have until Friday morning to surrender the keys.”
“That is correct,” I said, not looking up from my papers. “The lease was held by Ashcroft Properties. Since neither you nor your son are employees of Ashcroft Holdings, the corporate housing authorization has been revoked.”
“Eleanor, please!” Celeste gasped, tears spilling down her wrinkled cheeks. “I am sixty-eight years old! Marcus is sleeping on a friend’s couch, and Adrian... Adrian is staying in a budget motel near the airport! He doesn't even have enough money to buy decent food! His credit cards are all canceled!”
I finally set my pen down and looked at her.
“When my father died seven years ago, Celeste,” I said quietly, “you came to my house for the memorial service. Do you remember what you said to me in the kitchen while I was making tea for the guests?”
Celeste blinked, her mouth opening slightly in confusion. “I... I don't remember...”
“You told me that I should be grateful Adrian married me,” I reminded her, my voice dropping into a chilling calm. “You said a girl with no social charm and a quiet personality was lucky to have a handsome, charismatic man like your son to handle the real world. You told me my father’s money was the only reason Adrian looked at me twice.”
Celeste turned pale, pulling her purse tight against her stomach. “I... I was just joking, Eleanor...”
“No, you weren't,” I said flatly. “You believed it. Adrian believed it. Your whole family treated my silence as weakness. You drank my wine, lived in my apartments, wore diamonds bought with my family’s dividends, and laughed behind my back while Adrian paraded his mistress across Seattle.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk.
“I am not evicting you out of malice, Celeste. I am simply withdrawing my charity. If your son is the brilliant, self-made king he claimed to be at the banquet, he should have no trouble buying you a new penthouse by Friday.”
Celeste stared at me, realization dawning on her that no amount of tears or matriarchal guilt would ever break through my resolve again.
May you like
“You’re a monster,” she whispered, her voice venomous.
“No, Celeste,” I replied, ringing the desk bell for security. “I’m just the landlord. And your rent is seven years overdue.”
