Chapter 12 - Three MonthsBrooks didn't yell.
That frightened Serena more.
He sat opposite her in the breakfast room the next morning while police remained elsewhere in the estate.
“You said four days.”
“I know.”
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was ashamed.”
“No.”
She looked up.
He repeated.
“That's what people say when they want shame to sound like an explanation.”
Serena stared.
Brooks had changed in twenty-four hours.
Or maybe stopped protecting what he wanted to believe.
“Tell me from the beginning.”
Three months earlier, Preston met Serena at a hotel cafe.
Not romantic.
At least not then.
He showed her Silvercrest payments.
Told her Caleb had been helping recover money owed to Malcolm's family.
Serena was furious at Caleb.
Then Preston showed Daniel's connection to Arthur.
Told her Brooks knew.
That was a lie.
“He said you married me partly because of my father's papers.”
Brooks laughed softly.
Cruel lie.
Effective.
“You believed him?”
“I didn't know.”
“Did you ask me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if it was true, you'd lie.”
There it was.
Preston didn't need Serena to believe him fully.
Only to distrust Brooks enough not to ask.
Then Preston showed her the trust copy.
Told her Brooks planned to divorce her once the audit was complete.
Again.
No proof.
But Serena and Brooks had been fighting.
About children.
Brooks wanted to wait.
Serena feared he was pulling away.
Preston fed existing insecurity.
Then he said Edwin was encouraging Brooks to investigate Serena's family.
“Was he?”
“No,” Brooks said.
“I know that now.”
“What did Preston ask first?”
“Information.”
Schedules.
Edwin's habits.
Eleanor's archive access.
Security routines.
Serena gave him all of it.
Brooks stared.
“You've been reporting on my family for three months.”
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“Your board calendar.”
“Passwords?”
“No.”
“Keys?”
She hesitated.
“The master key.”
Brooks closed his eyes.
She had duplicated it herself.
Not Preston.
“What did you think he'd do?”
“Access records.”
“Illegally.”
“Yes.”
“And the accusation?”
“He mentioned it as a contingency.”
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
“So six weeks.”
Serena nodded.
“He said Edwin was the one person who could stop the plan.”
“What plan?”
“To force the board to recognize the Vale claim.”
“Through stolen money?”
“He said the shell funds were financing legal work.”
“How much did you receive?”
She looked shocked.
“I didn't.”
Brooks waited.
Serena looked away.
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand.”
Vivian, listening from the doorway, whispered,
“Unbelievable.”
Serena snapped,
“It went to a separate account.”
“That is receiving it.”
“I didn't spend it.”
“Why take it?”
“Preston said it was protection if you left me.”
Brooks stared.
Two hundred thousand dollars.
Insurance against her marriage.
Funded by money stolen from his company.
He asked,
“Did you sleep with him?”
Serena went still.
Vivian left the room.
Edwin, farther away, closed the door.
Brooks waited.
“No.”
He studied her.
“Did you want to?”
Tears.
“Once.”
Not an affair.
But emotional betrayal had already happened.
Preston became the person Serena called when angry with Brooks.
He listened.
Validated.
Then redirected every grievance toward suspicion.
Serena admitted kissing him once.
Stopped.
Regretted.
Preston used it.
Photographs.
He had arranged for someone to take them.
Blackmail.
“If you stop helping, Brooks sees these.”
Brooks felt cold.
“So he trapped you.”
“Yes.”
“And you trapped Edwin.”
Serena cried.
“Yes.”
Brooks looked away.
Sympathy and disgust could coexist.
He hated that.
Then Serena said,
“There is one thing I never did.”
“What?”
“I never gave Preston the archive authorization.”
Eleanor had.
Serena used it.
But Preston somehow knew vault layout.
“How?”
“I don't know.”
Brooks almost laughed.
She flinched.
“Sorry.”
“No. This time maybe you don't.”
Serena continued.
“He knew details I didn't.”
Someone else had been helping.
Inside the family structure.
Who?
Marcus?
Thomas?
Eleanor?
Board member?
Preston couldn't have built years of access alone.
Police recovered messages from Serena's phone.
One contact Preston used anonymously:
MASON
Brooks frowned.
Mason Caldwell.
His uncle.
Arthur's younger brother.
Seventy.
Retired.
Rarely visited.
Vivian whispered,
“Uncle Mason?”
Serena nodded.
“Preston mentioned him once.”
“What did he say?”
“That Mason was the person Arthur cheated first.”
Brooks felt the floor shift again.
He called Mason.
No answer.
Then Eleanor walked in.
She heard the name.
Her face changed.
“No.”
Brooks turned.
“What?”
“Do not call him.”
“Why?”
“Because Mason hates Edwin.”
Edwin looked unsurprised.
Brooks asked,
“Why?”
Eleanor swallowed.
“Because Edwin knows why Mason was removed from the company.”
Brooks laughed bitterly.
“Of course he does.”
“What happened?”
Edwin answered.
“Mason tried to sell confidential development plans to a competitor.”
Brooks stared.
“When?”
“Twenty-five years ago.”
“Why wasn't he prosecuted?”
“Arthur protected him.”
Another family secret.
Mason lost his job.
Kept wealth.
Kept public dignity.
But blamed Edwin for finding evidence.
Brooks checked Serena's recovered messages.
MASON wrote Preston frequently.
Locations.
Archive details.
Board schedules.
Then one message stood out.
MASON: Serena is useful until she becomes liability.
Serena stared.
Her face emptied.
She had thought Preston chose her.
Protected her.
Maybe even cared.
May you like
But to the men running the plan—
she was a tool with an expiration date.
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