Chapter 6 - THE CASINO RECEIPTSCharles Whitmore did not want to meet.
He was fifty-two.
Married twenty-seven years.
Three adult children.
Real-estate developer.
Respected.
Adrian knew the name socially.
Never connected him to Celeste.
Charles finally agreed because Adrian promised no press.
They met with attorneys present.
Charles looked exhausted before conversation began.
“She told you?”
“No.”
“Gavin Rourke gave me your name.”
Charles cursed softly.
Then stared at table.
“I had an affair with Celeste.”
Adrian said nothing.
Charles continued:
“Two years ago.”
“It lasted three months.”
“When I ended it, she showed me something.”
He did not describe explicit content.
He did not need to.
Celeste had secretly retained private recordings Charles never consented to.
She threatened to send them to his wife.
His board.
His children.
“How much?”
Adrian asked.
Charles closed eyes.
“First two million.”
“You paid?”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“She came back.”
“Three million.”
“You paid again?”
“Yes.”
Adrian stared.
“Five million dollars.”
Charles nodded.
“Why didn’t you go to police?”
“Because I was ashamed.”
“And because I had lied to my wife.”
Celeste knew.
She chose men who already had something to hide.
The wrongdoing began with their affairs.
But her extortion was separate.
Charles said:
“Third time I refused.”
“What happened?”
“She disappeared.”
“Because she met me?”
“Probably.”
Adrian felt cold.
“When did she stop contacting you?”
Charles gave month.
Three weeks before Adrian and Celeste met at charity gala.
She had moved from one wealthy man to another almost immediately.
Then Charles said:
“There were others.”
Adrian looked up.
“How do you know?”
“Because once, when she was drunk, she showed me a folder.”
“What folder?”
“She called it insurance.”
The word landed.
Adrian asked:
“What was in it?”
Charles looked ashamed.
“Names.”
“Photographs.”
“Files.”
“I saw at least four men.”
“Married?”
“Most.”
“How many paid?”
“I don’t know.”
Then Charles looked directly at Adrian.
“If she was planning to marry you…”
He stopped.
“What?”
“You should assume she had insurance on you too.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
He thought of every private hotel.
Every bedroom.
Every weekend.
Every moment he believed he was alone with woman he trusted.
Charles saw.
“That’s what I thought too.”
Adrian left meeting sick with rage.
Not fear of scandal.
Violation.
Then his cybersecurity team called.
They had found an encrypted directory on one of Celeste’s synchronized tablets still registered to mansion Wi-Fi.
Folder name:
INSURANCE
Locked.
But metadata showed nineteen subfolders.
May you like
Nineteen.
Celeste’s secret life had just become far larger.
Related Stories
