Chapter 7 - The Night Celeste Never Spoke AboutCeleste answered on the fifth ring.
“Nicholas.”
Nico stood beside the living-room window, one hand wrapped around the phone, the other hanging rigidly at his side.
Audrey remained a few feet away.
She could hear only his half of the conversation, but she knew from the way his shoulders tightened that his mother had already recognized something unusual in his silence.
“I need to see you.”
A pause.
“No. Tonight.”
Another pause.
Nico closed his eyes.
“Mother, Rebecca found Edward Haines’s final report.”
Silence.
This time, even Audrey could feel it.
Nico opened his eyes.
“Are you still there?”
Celeste finally answered.
Audrey could not hear the words.
But she saw her husband’s expression change.
Not anger.
Recognition.
The terrible recognition that arrived when someone’s reaction answered a question before their words did.
“I’ll be there in forty minutes,” Nico said.
He ended the call.
Audrey waited.
Nico stared at the dark screen of his phone.
“She knew the name.”
“Edward Haines?”
“Yes.”
“Did she say anything else?”
“She asked whether the report mentioned Daniel coming to see her.”
Audrey felt cold.
“So she remembers the meeting.”
“Yes.”
Nico reached for his coat.
Audrey did not move.
He noticed.
“What?”
“Do you want me to come?”
The question stopped him.
Years earlier, Audrey would simply have assumed that she either belonged beside him or did not.
Nico would have made the decision for both of them.
Now he considered it.
“I want you there.”
“That wasn’t exactly my question.”
His expression softened.
“I know.”
He walked toward her.
“I want you there, but this is my mother. If you don’t want to be in the middle of it, I understand.”
Audrey held his gaze.
“I’ll come.”
He nodded.
No gratitude that sounded like obligation.
No relief disguised as entitlement.
Just acceptance.
“Okay.”
They left together.
The drive to Westchester took thirty-eight minutes.
Neither spoke much.
Nico called Rebecca from the car and informed her that he intended to speak with Celeste.
Rebecca’s response was immediate.
“Do not show her the entire report.”
Nico frowned.
“Why?”
“Because if she is a witness, you do not want to contaminate her memory by giving her details she may later believe she remembered independently.”
Audrey glanced at Nico.
He looked irritated.
Rebecca continued.
“Ask open questions. Do not tell her what conclusion you think the report supports.”
“I know how to question someone.”
“This is your mother.”
Nico went silent.
Rebecca’s voice softened slightly.
“That makes you worse at it, not better.”
Audrey looked out the window to hide a smile.
Nico noticed anyway.
“You find this entertaining?”
“Only a little.”
Rebecca ignored them.
“If Celeste provides relevant information, document it afterward. Do not secretly record her unless counsel confirms the applicable rules and strategy. And Nicholas?”
“Yes?”
“If she says something painful, that does not automatically make it evidence.”
Nico’s expression changed.
“I understand.”
“I hope so.”
The call ended.
Audrey rested her hand on the center console.
Nico placed his over it.
Neither said anything.
Celeste was waiting in the conservatory.
Again.
Audrey wondered whether the room had become the Bellandi family’s unofficial courtroom.
The orchids were dark shapes against the windows.
Only two lamps were on.
Celeste wore a gray silk robe over a black nightdress, and her hair, usually immaculate, had been pulled loosely behind her head.
She looked older than she had that morning.
Much older.
Nico entered first.
Audrey followed.
Celeste looked at her son.
“You found Haines’s report.”
“Yes.”
“How much of it?”
“Enough.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Neither is anything you’ve given me for the last twenty-three years.”
Audrey saw Celeste flinch.
Nico saw it too.
He breathed slowly.
When he spoke again, his voice was calmer.
“Did Daniel Mercer come here the night before he died?”
Celeste looked toward Audrey.
Then back at Nico.
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
Nico’s jaw tightened.
“Why?”
“He was frightened.”
“Of Vittorio?”
Celeste hesitated.
Nico caught himself before continuing.
Rebecca’s warning.
Open questions.
“What was he frightened of?”
Celeste walked toward the windows.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she whispered, “Your father.”
Nico became perfectly still.
Audrey felt her stomach tighten.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Celeste closed her eyes.
“Because Daniel believed Anthony was going to confront Vittorio without understanding how dangerous the situation had become.”
Nico stared.
“That’s not the same thing as being frightened of him.”
“No.”
Celeste turned.
“But Daniel had discovered something Anthony refused to believe.”
“What?”
“Someone had been using your father’s authority without his knowledge.”
Nico frowned.
“We know signatures were copied.”
“Not copied.”
Celeste shook her head.
“Authorized.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means your father had signed documents in advance.”
Audrey understood first.
“Blank authorizations?”
Celeste looked at her.
“Yes.”
Nico’s face hardened.
“For what?”
“Emergency transactions. Transfers. Property acquisitions. Payments that needed to be made when Anthony was traveling.”
“And who had access?”
Celeste looked at him.
“Vittorio.”
Silence.
Nico turned away.
That was bad.
But not surprising.
Vittorio had controlled Northbridge.
His initials had appeared on the mechanic’s envelope.
Everything still pointed toward him.
Then Celeste said, “And me.”
Nico turned back.
Audrey stopped breathing for a second.
Celeste stood absolutely still.
“I had access too.”
Nico stared at his mother.
“How many documents?”
“I don’t know.”
“That isn’t possible.”
“It was more than twenty years ago.”
“You remember Daniel coming here the night before he died, but you don’t remember how many signed financial authorizations my father gave you?”
Celeste’s eyes flashed.
“I remember enough to know I made mistakes.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Nico.”
Audrey’s voice was quiet.
He looked at her.
She did not tell him to calm down.
She simply reminded him with her expression that anger was not the same as clarity.
Nico turned back to Celeste.
“Did you ever use one of those authorizations?”
“Yes.”
“For Northbridge?”
Celeste’s mouth tightened.
“Yes.”
The room seemed to contract.
Nico took one step backward.
Audrey watched his face.
He was trying desperately not to arrive at the conclusion before the evidence did.
“How much?”
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
Nico closed his eyes.
The exact amount Samuel Price claimed to have received.
Audrey felt sick.
“Why?” Nico asked.
Celeste did not answer.
“Mother.”
She looked at him.
“Why did you authorize a fifty-thousand-dollar payment through Northbridge?”
“For Daniel.”
Nico frowned.
“What?”
“The money was for Daniel.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I know.”
“Then explain it.”
Celeste walked to a cabinet and poured herself water.
Her hand shook so badly that the glass touched the bottle twice.
Audrey had never seen Celeste Bellandi’s hands shake.
“The morning before Daniel died, he called me. He said he needed money that could not be traced directly to him.”
“For what?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
“And you gave it to him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he said a woman and a child might need to disappear.”
Audrey thought of Sofia and Clara.
“You believed he meant Sofia Marino?”
“I didn’t know her name then.”
“But you knew there was a woman.”
“Yes.”
Nico looked at the floor.
“Why use Northbridge?”
“Daniel told me which company.”
“Why?”
“He said Vittorio was already moving money through it and one more payment would disappear among the others.”
Nico laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“So the payment that looks like evidence Vittorio hired someone to kill Daniel may have been money Daniel himself requested.”
“Yes.”
“And Price says he received fifty thousand dollars.”
Celeste’s face changed.
“I didn’t know that.”
“Did Daniel receive the money?”
“I thought he did.”
“You thought?”
“The authorization went to Thomas Greer.”
Nico looked up sharply.
“The intermediary.”
“Yes.”
Audrey felt the pieces shifting again.
Nothing fit cleanly anymore.
“Did you know Greer?” she asked.
Celeste nodded.
“He occasionally handled sensitive payments for Anthony.”
“Was he trustworthy?”
Celeste gave her a bleak look.
“I no longer know what that word means in this story.”
Nico sat down.
For the first time since entering the room, he looked less like a chairman confronting a witness and more like a son trying to understand how many versions of his childhood had existed around him.
“Tell me about Daniel’s visit.”
Celeste lowered herself into the chair opposite him.
“He arrived after eleven.”
“Was Dad here?”
“No. Anthony was in Boston.”
“Why did Daniel come to you instead of him?”
“Because he had already spoken to Anthony.”
“About Vittorio?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Anthony refused to believe that his brother was involved in anything beyond financial misconduct.”
Nico looked away.
Celeste continued.
“Daniel said the problem was larger. He believed Lorenzo Marino was using information about Sofia and her daughter to pressure Vittorio.”
“Pressure him into what?”
“I don’t know.”
“You never asked?”
“Of course I asked.”
Her voice sharpened.
“He refused to tell me everything because he believed the fewer people who knew, the safer we would be.”
Audrey almost laughed at the bitter familiarity.
Celeste noticed.
“So many men in our lives believed ignorance was a gift,” she said.
Audrey met her eyes.
“Yes.”
Celeste looked down.
“I believed it too.”
Nico leaned forward.
“What did Daniel want from you?”
“He wanted the fifty thousand. He wanted access to a house Anthony owned in Vermont. And he wanted me to promise that if anything happened to him, I would make sure Jack was financially protected.”
Nico swallowed.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
Jack had received a scholarship after his father’s death.
Nico suddenly remembered it.
A private foundation had paid his university tuition.
At the time, everyone had told him it was because Daniel had served the family loyally.
“Was Jack’s scholarship yours?”
Celeste nodded.
“Anthony knew?”
“Later.”
“Jack?”
“No.”
Nico looked exhausted.
Another act of protection.
Another secret.
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
“Because I thought money was easier to accept if it did not come with grief attached.”
Audrey studied her.
“That was his decision to make.”
Celeste nodded slowly.
“I know that now.”
Nico looked toward the dark windows.
“What happened after Daniel left?”
Celeste’s face tightened.
“He called me at six thirty the next morning.”
“The day he died?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He said the money had gone to the wrong person.”
Nico sat upright.
“What person?”
“He didn’t know.”
“Then how did he know it was wrong?”
“Because Greer had disappeared.”
Audrey leaned forward.
“Thomas Greer?”
“Yes.”
“But Greer died eleven years ago.”
“That is what I was told.”
Nico stared at her.
“What do you mean?”
Celeste’s expression changed.
“Daniel said Greer had taken the authorization and vanished. He believed someone had intercepted him.”
“Did he mention Price?”
“No.”
“Vittorio?”
“Yes.”
Nico waited.
Celeste’s voice dropped.
“He said, ‘If Vittorio calls, don’t answer.’”
“Why?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
“Anything else?”
Celeste hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“He told me to take you out of New York.”
Nico went still.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He said Anthony’s children might become leverage.”
Nico frowned.
“I’m an only child.”
Celeste looked at him.
Audrey saw something pass across her face.
Fear.
Not old fear.
Immediate fear.
Nico noticed too.
“Mother.”
Celeste looked down.
“What did he mean by children?”
No answer.
“Mother.”
Celeste’s hands tightened.
“I don’t know.”
Nico stood.
“You’re lying.”
“I am not.”
“You looked terrified.”
“Because I remember being terrified.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“Nicholas—”
“Did my father have another child?”
Audrey’s eyes moved between them.
Celeste stood.
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
Nico heard it.
“So what did Daniel mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he say children?”
“Yes.”
“Plural?”
“Yes.”
“Then either he was mistaken or there was another child.”
Celeste’s face had gone pale.
Audrey intervened.
“Celeste, is there something you believe might explain it even if you don’t know whether it’s true?”
The older woman looked at her.
For several seconds, she struggled with herself.
Then she whispered, “There was a girl.”
Nico’s expression emptied.
“What girl?”
Celeste sat again.
“Before I married Anthony, he had a relationship with someone.”
Nico did not move.
“Her name was Marianne Cole.”
“Did they have a child?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just said there was a girl.”
“I said there was a girl because Marianne appeared at the estate once with a little girl.”
“How old?”
“About five.”
“Did Dad know?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“He spoke to Marianne privately. She left. He never explained.”
Nico stared at his mother.
“When was this?”
“Thirty-seven years ago.”
Nico calculated.
He was forty-one.
The child would now be in her early forties.
“Did you ever ask him whether she was his daughter?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He said no.”
“Did you believe him?”
Celeste looked toward the floor.
“At the time, I wanted to.”
That answer hurt more than a direct accusation.
They left the estate shortly after one in the morning.
In the car, Nico did not start the engine.
He sat with both hands resting on the steering wheel.
Audrey waited.
Finally, he said, “Every answer creates another secret.”
“Yes.”
“My mother authorized the payment.”
“Yes.”
“But maybe not for the reason we thought.”
“Yes.”
“And now I might have a sister.”
“Possibly.”
He laughed without humor.
“Excellent.”
Audrey leaned back.
Nico turned toward her.
“You’re remarkably calm.”
“I’m not.”
“You look calm.”
“I have years of practice.”
He almost smiled.
Then his expression broke.
Not dramatically.
His eyes simply filled.
Audrey said nothing.
Nico looked through the windshield.
“I don’t know who these people were anymore.”
“Your parents?”
“Yes.”
“They were probably all the versions you remember and all the versions you’re discovering.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“It isn’t meant to be.”
He looked at her.
Audrey continued.
“Your father could love you and lie to you. Your mother could protect Jack and still deny him information he deserved. Anthony could help Sofia and fail Daniel. Celeste could make terrible decisions and still regret them.”
Nico swallowed.
“People are exhausting.”
“Especially dead ones. They refuse to clarify anything.”
He laughed.
A genuine laugh this time.
Audrey smiled.
Then his phone rang.
Rebecca.
Nico answered.
“What happened?”
“We found something in the Haines material.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
Nico frowned.
“Of whom?”
“Anthony Bellandi, Marianne Cole, and a girl.”
Nico closed his eyes.
“Do we know who she is?”
“We have a possible name.”
“What name?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“Laura Cole.”
Audrey saw Nico’s hand tighten around the phone.
Rebecca continued.
“There’s more. Haines ran a background check on her eighteen years ago.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Where is she?”
“New York.”
Nico stared ahead.
“What does she do?”
Rebecca’s next answer made Audrey sit upright.
“She works for Richard Vale.”
By nine the next morning, Rebecca had confirmed that Laura Cole was forty-two years old and had worked as Richard Vale’s executive counsel for nearly thirteen years.
She had no public connection to the Bellandi family.
No visible connection to Anthony.
No known relationship with Celeste.
But Edward Haines had investigated her.
And three months after beginning that investigation, he disappeared.
Nico stood in his office staring at Laura’s professional photograph on Rebecca’s tablet.
Dark hair.
Gray eyes.
Controlled expression.
There was something around the mouth.
Something familiar.
He hated himself for looking.
Audrey stood beside him.
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Try to decide whether she looks like you.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
Nico sighed.
“Maybe.”
“Faces aren’t evidence.”
“I know.”
Rebecca closed the tablet.
“We need to proceed carefully.”
“Does Laura know about the investigation?”
“Not from us.”
“What about Richard?”
“We don’t know.”
Jack stood near the door.
He had been unusually quiet since hearing Celeste’s account of the fifty-thousand-dollar payment.
The simple narrative he had begun constructing—Vittorio paid Price to kill Daniel—had become more complicated.
Nico understood how much that hurt.
Certainty, even terrible certainty, could be easier than ambiguity.
“Can we talk to Laura?” Jack asked.
Rebecca nodded.
“Yes. But I want to know more first.”
“About what?”
“Why Haines investigated her.”
She opened another file.
“His notes contain three references to Laura.”
Nico leaned forward.
“What do they say?”
Rebecca read the first.
“‘Subject may be unaware of Bellandi connection.’”
She read the second.
“‘A.B. refuses testing.’”
Nico’s expression tightened.
Anthony Bellandi.
Rebecca continued.
“And the third says, ‘If V.B. discovers identity first, situation becomes dangerous.’”
Jack frowned.
“Vittorio.”
“Possibly.”
Audrey looked at Rebecca.
“Or someone else with those initials.”
“Correct.”
Nico stared at the documents.
“What do you recommend?”
“Nothing dramatic.”
“That’s disappointing.”
Rebecca ignored him.
“We verify Marianne Cole’s history. We determine whether any genetic testing was ever performed. We find out why Laura works for Richard Vale.”
“And if she knows everything?”
“Then we ask why she never approached you.”
Nico looked at Audrey.
She understood the question he did not ask.
What if Laura had spent her entire life knowing Anthony was her father?
What if she knew Nico existed?
What if she had watched from a distance while he inherited everything?
Money.
Name.
Power.
Family.
A father she may never have been allowed to claim.
Audrey reached for Nico’s hand beneath the table.
He squeezed her fingers.
Rebecca looked between them.
“There is one more thing.”
Nico sighed.
“There always is.”
“Haines’s notes mention a safety-deposit box.”
“Where?”
“Manhattan.”
“Still active?”
“Yes.”
“Who owns it?”
May you like
Rebecca looked directly at him.
“Laura Cole.”
