Chapter 2 - “HOW MANY TIMES?”Audrey counted five incidents.
Not all physical.
Some were worse because they were so easy to hide.
Celeste once left Noah crying alone in the nursery for almost an hour because he would not stop reaching for Maya.
Another time she took away his favorite stuffed elephant because he threw food at dinner.
“He’s fourteen months old,” Adrian said.
Audrey looked down.
“I know.”
A third time Celeste ordered Maya out of the room and yelled at Noah until he became silent.
Not calm.
Silent.
“He learned that when she raised her voice, crying made it worse,” Maya said.
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
He hated himself for not noticing.
“When?”
“Mostly when you traveled.”
Of course.
Adrian Vale spent nearly half his month between New York, London, Chicago, and San Francisco.
When he was home, Celeste transformed.
Warm.
Elegant.
Patient.
She held Noah beautifully whenever Adrian walked into a room.
Maya said:
“She knew exactly when your car entered the gate.”
Audrey added:
“And when your plane landed.”
Adrian looked at Celeste’s engagement photograph on the foyer console.
Beautiful woman.
Perfect smile.
Perfect lie.
Celeste had already left the property under security escort.
Not arrested.
Not yet.
Adrian’s attorneys warned him not to make public accusations before evidence was preserved.
But she was forbidden from contact with Noah.
Maya was examined for the kick.
Bruising.
No serious injury.
Noah’s arm was also evaluated.
No fracture.
No dislocation.
Adrian should have felt relief.
Instead he felt sick.
No serious injury did not make terror acceptable.
Then Audrey said:
“There were other nannies.”
Adrian turned.
“What?”
“Maya wasn’t the first person she threatened.”
He knew Noah had had several caregivers.
He assumed turnover was normal.
Celeste handled staffing.
“How many?”
“Three before Maya.”
Adrian stared.
“In a year?”
“Yes.”
“Why did they leave?”
Audrey looked at Maya.
Maya answered:
“Ask Celeste.”
Adrian already knew he could not.
Not anymore.
He called his chief of staff.
“I want every employment file for anyone who worked directly with Noah since Celeste moved in.”
Then:
“And preserve every security-system log.”
The answer came two hours later.
Three previous nannies.
Rachel Dunn.
Tessa Morgan.
Sophie Lane.
Their personnel files contained remarkably similar reasons for termination:
Boundary issues.
Poor judgment.
Inappropriate attachment to child.
All signed by Celeste.
None by Adrian.
He had trusted her.
That was beginning to feel like the most expensive mistake he had ever made.
Then Maya looked at the recorder.
“Sir…”
“What?”
“I didn’t put that there tonight.”
Adrian frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“I put it under that table almost three weeks ago.”
He stared.
“And it’s been recording all that time?”
“Not continuously.”
“Motion and voice activation.”
Adrian looked down.
“How much is on it?”
Maya swallowed.
“I don’t know.”
Celeste had been speaking inside that foyer for three weeks.
Not knowing one small black object was listening.
Adrian connected the recorder to a secure laptop.
There were thirty-seven files.
Most short.
Some only footsteps.
One lasted seventeen minutes.
Another twenty-three.
And one file, recorded six nights earlier, began with Celeste’s voice saying:
“I already told you. I’ll get your money.”
A man answered through speakerphone.
“You said that last month.”
Celeste:
“I need more time.”
The man:
“You don’t have more time.”
Adrian stopped playback.
He looked at Maya.
“Who is she talking to?”
Maya shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Adrian pressed play again.
The man said:
“Monday.”
Celeste:
“I’ll have it by Monday.”
“And if you don’t?”
Long silence.
Then Celeste whispered:
“Then my life is over.”
Adrian stared at the waveform.
The wedding was three weeks away.
Monday had nothing to do with Noah.
May you like
Nothing to do with Maya.
For the first time, Adrian wondered if the woman he planned to marry was hiding something far larger than cruelty.
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