Chapter 10 - The PhotographMarcus looked at the photograph for a long time.
Then said:
“I wasn’t sleeping with her.”
Dorian laughed once.
Nobody joined him.
Lydia asked:
“Who is she?”
“Dana Pike.”
Celeste knew the name.
“Ashford Holdings compliance.”
“Yes.”
Lydia frowned.
“Why were you leaving a hotel together?”
Marcus stared at the floor.
“Because she was helping me investigate Dorian.”
Silence.
Dorian’s head snapped up.
“What?”
Marcus looked at him.
“Six months ago.”
“The Ashford Access email.”
“Yes.”
Marcus had shown Celeste the recalled email, but before that he contacted Dana privately.
He wanted to know whether the spreadsheet was real.
Dana traced metadata.
Found references to Evan.
Then discovered one of Marcus’s own investment approvals involved a Cross-linked entity.
“I realized I might have approved something dirty.”
“Why didn’t you tell Mom immediately?” Lydia asked.
Marcus gave a tired smile.
“Pride.”
Celeste looked down.
She didn’t argue.
“Why the hotel?”
“Dana was at a conference. We met in the lobby.”
“The photo makes it look—”
“I know.”
Evan had chosen the angle.
Marcus leaving.
Dana behind.
No context.
Lydia looked at Dorian.
“Did you know Marcus was investigating you?”
“No.”
“Did Evan?”
Dorian looked at the message.
“Apparently.”
Celeste asked:
“How?”
Marcus frowned.
“Dana.”
“No.”
He looked at his mother.
Celeste continued.
“Who knew you met?”
“Only me and Dana.”
“And perhaps whoever accessed her calendar.”
Marcus’s expression changed.
Ashford Holdings calendar systems.
Evan had inside access.
Not just Dorian.
“Someone in the company is feeding him information,” Marcus said.
Celeste nodded.
“That would explain how he knew about tomorrow’s trustee meeting.”
Dorian shook his head.
“I told him that.”
“Yes,” Celeste said. “But not everything.”
She looked at the photograph.
“Someone provided Marcus’s schedule.”
The problem widened.
But Celeste stopped it from sprawling.
“One person,” she said.
“What?” Lydia asked.
“We do not assume a conspiracy.”
She looked at Marcus.
“Find access logs.”
Marcus called Dana.
She answered angrily.
“I just got the photo.”
Marcus apologized.
She cut him off.
“Save it. I warned you someone was reading internal calendars.”
Marcus froze.
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did.”
“No.”
“I emailed you.”
Marcus looked at Dorian.
Then at Lydia.
Another missing message?
Dana forwarded the original.
Sent to Marcus.
Timestamped.
Never received in his inbox.
IT logs showed delivery.
Then deletion.
Who had access to Marcus’s email account?
His assistant.
Company IT.
Marcus himself.
And, under an old shared executive-security policy, Celeste’s family office administrator.
Not Dorian.
Marcus looked at Celeste.
She shook her head.
“I did not delete it.”
Lydia felt another wave of exhaustion.
They needed professionals.
Not family accusations.
Celeste called outside cybersecurity counsel.
No internal IT.
Within an hour, preliminary logs showed deletion from a device registered to Marcus’s executive assistant, Paige Nolan.
Marcus stared.
“Paige?”
She had worked for him four years.
Trusted.
Efficient.
Present at family events.
Celeste said:
“Call counsel before calling her.”
Marcus nodded.
Progress.
No impulsive confrontation.
The investigators checked remote access.
Paige’s credentials had logged in from an unfamiliar device multiple times.
Could be stolen.
Could be her.
No assumptions.
At 2:14 a.m., Marcus received another message.
A document.
Old company wire.
$700,000.
Ashford Holdings to private lender.
Description:
Executive retention settlement.
The loan Jonathan used to rescue Marcus.
Real.
Evan’s message:
Tomorrow’s headline writes itself.
Marcus looked ill.
Lydia said:
“We disclose before he does.”
He nodded.
Then another photo arrived.
Celeste and a man outside a private clinic.
Dated eight months ago.
Text:
Want to explain this one too?
Lydia frowned.
“Mom?”
Celeste stared at the image.
Then laughed.
A real laugh.
Everyone looked at her.
“What?” Marcus asked.
“That is Dr. Samuel Reed.”
“So?”
“My cardiologist.”
Lydia’s face changed.
“You have a cardiologist?”
Celeste stopped laughing.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Silence.
Another family secret.
Lydia closed her eyes.
“Mom.”
“I have an arrhythmia.”
Marcus stood.
“What?”
“It is controlled.”
“Since when?”
“About a year.”
“And you told no one.”
“I did not want you worrying.”
Lydia laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
Celeste looked ashamed.
Dorian watched the family react.
Then said quietly:
“Evan thinks it’s cognitive treatment.”
Celeste stared.
“What?”
“He thought you were seeing a neurologist.”
Lydia’s stomach tightened.
Plan to challenge competency.
Evan had photographed Celeste entering a clinic and misidentified the physician.
He was preparing to imply she had a hidden neurological condition.
A lie built around a real secret.
That was his method.
Find truth.
Remove context.
Aim it at a wound.
Celeste sat.
“I made that easier.”
Lydia looked at her.
“Yes.”
No comfort.
No cruelty.
Truth.
Another message appeared.
Evan:
C.A. health story scheduled 8:00.
Marcus package 8:15.
Then:
Unless Dorian fixes this.
Dorian stared.
“He still thinks I can.”
Lydia turned.
“Can you?”
“No.”
“What does he want?”
Dorian’s phone rang.
Evan.
Everyone watched.
Celeste said:
“Do not answer unless your attorney advises.”
Dorian looked at Lydia.
“My attorney doesn’t exist yet.”
Marcus said:
“I’ll call one.”
Dorian almost laughed.
“You’re helping me?”
Marcus answered:
“I’m protecting the evidence.”
Not him.
The distinction mattered.
Dorian declined the call.
Then a voicemail arrived.
Evan’s voice.
Calm.
“You have until seven a.m. Get Lydia to sign the transfer, or every Ashford secret I have goes public.”
A pause.
“And Dorian?”
His tone changed.
“If you think the camera saved you, remember who paid for the apartment you never told your wife about.”
Lydia went still.
“What apartment?”
Dorian closed his eyes.
May you like
There was still one secret he had kept from everyone.
And this one had nothing to do with Evan’s investment scheme.
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