Chapter 10 - Our Divorce Became Front-Page NewsThe headline went live at 7:02 Thursday morning.
ASHFORD MARRIAGE COLLAPSES AMID INFIDELITY RUMORS.
By 7:09, three television networks were repeating it.
By 7:20, Ashford Continental shares had dropped four percent in premarket trading.
By 7:35, Harlon Vance called me six times.
I ignored all six.
The statement from my attorney was perfect.
Mrs. Marin Ashford has retained independent counsel regarding serious marital concerns. No further comment will be made at this time.
Not divorce.
Not separation.
Concern.
Enough to create panic.
Saurin’s statement was even colder.
Mr. Ashford does not comment on private family matters.
Boston exploded.
Celeste called him at 8:11.
We were sitting together in his study.
Daniel had arranged recording authorization through counsel because Celeste was already implicated in potential corporate interference.
Saurin looked at the phone.
Then at me.
“Answer.”
He did.
“Celeste.”
Her voice came through the speaker.
“I saw the news.”
“I assumed you would.”
“I’m sorry.”
I nearly laughed.
Saurin’s face remained expressionless.
“Are you?”
“Of course.”
Silence.
Then Celeste said, “You deserve better.”
My fingernails pressed into my palm.
Saurin looked at me.
I nodded once.
He continued.
“Marin is speaking to attorneys.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“It’s everywhere.”
“She found the earring.”
A pause.
Tiny.
Enough.
“Oh.”
“You knew she would.”
“Saurin—”
“Don’t.”
Her tone changed.
“I told you she wasn’t made for this world.”
My anger became almost calm.
Saurin said, “And you are?”
“I understand what is at stake.”
“The trust?”
Silence.
Then she laughed softly.
“Everything is always a trust with your family.”
“You wanted the marriage over before tomorrow.”
“Maybe I wanted you free.”
“Free for what?”
“For the life you should have had.”
“With you?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
Saurin looked toward the window.
I watched his jaw tighten.
“Celeste.”
“What?”
“I never loved you.”
Brutal.
Even I flinched.
Her voice became ice.
“You said you did.”
“I said I cared about you.”
“You let me spend years waiting.”
“I told you repeatedly I would not marry you.”
“You married a schoolteacher after knowing her for one day.”
There it was.
Not heartbreak anymore.
Rage.
“She was supposed to be temporary,” Celeste said.
Saurin’s eyes moved to mine.
“Was she?”
“You know she was.”
“No.”
“Saurin.”
“She stopped being temporary a long time ago.”
The room went very quiet.
Celeste’s breathing changed.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“No.”
“You lose tomorrow, you lose control.”
“I know.”
“She’ll leave anyway.”
Saurin looked directly at me.
“That will be her choice.”
The sentence hit me harder than any declaration.
Her choice.
My mother’s letter echoed.
Love does not give him permission to decide for you.
Celeste’s voice sharpened.
“You think she belongs beside you?”
“Yes.”
“You think Boston accepts her?”
“I don’t care.”
“You think your grandfather intended someone like her—”
Saurin ended the call.
I stared at him.
“That was dramatic.”
“I was done listening.”
“You could have gotten more.”
“We have enough.”
Daniel entered five minutes later.
“We do.”
He had the recording.
Hale’s affidavit.
Bank transfers.
Security tampering evidence.
Arden affiliate purchases.
And Harlon had finally turned over every internal email showing his own manipulation of the marriage setup.
“What happens tomorrow?” I asked.
Saurin leaned against the desk.
“Trust trustees review marital stability, interference claims, and control transfer.”
“Will they believe the marriage is failing?”
“That is the idea.”
“And Celeste?”
“If she believes I’m vulnerable, she or her father may make contact with trustees or minority shareholders.”
Daniel nodded.
“We’re monitoring.”
The plan worked too well.
At noon, an Arden representative contacted two trust advisers.
At two, an affiliated fund offered to purchase contingent voting rights from a beneficiary if Saurin failed eligibility.
At four-thirty, Celeste sent Saurin an encrypted message.
We can fix this. Meet me tonight.
Saurin showed me.
I stared at the screen.
“Go.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t a suggestion.”
“Absolutely not.”
“She trusts you.”
“She thinks I’m emotionally compromised.”
“Excellent.”
“No.”
I folded my arms.
“You’re being difficult.”
“You want me to meet the woman who tried to destroy our marriage.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she may confess.”
“She may also touch me.”
I blinked.
“You survived last time.”
His mouth tightened.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“I don’t want her near me.”
That softened me unexpectedly.
I stepped closer.
“Saurin.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you finally believe I didn’t want her.”
“I do.”
“And I don’t want to perform otherwise.”
The sentence exposed something I had not considered.
He was willing to manipulate markets.
Boards.
Negotiations.
But not this.
Not now.
I nodded.
“Okay.”
He looked surprised.
“Okay?”
“Yes.”
“Just like that?”
“Consent is apparently fashionable.”
His expression changed.
He almost laughed.
Daniel cleared his throat.
“We could send a representative.”
“No,” I said.
Both men looked at me.
“I’ll go.”
Saurin’s face immediately hardened.
“No.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Consent.”
“This is different.”
“How?”
“Celeste hates you.”
“Wonderful. She might talk.”
“She may try to humiliate you.”
“She already put jewelry in my bed.”
“Marin.”
“I’m going.”
We compromised.
Public restaurant.
Daniel’s team nearby.
My phone recording legally under Massachusetts consent rules after counsel verified the setup.
Saurin hated every second.
Celeste arrived twelve minutes late.
I was already seated.
She stopped beside the table.
“You.”
“Disappointed?”
She removed her coat.
“Where is Saurin?”
“Not coming.”
Her face tightened.
“Then why am I here?”
“Because you wanted our marriage over.”
“I didn’t force him into anyone’s bed.”
I smiled.
“No. You only put yourself in ours.”
She looked toward the surrounding tables.
“Careful.”
“Why? Afraid people will hear?”
“You’re enjoying this.”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“I enjoyed thinking you were only jealous. Corporate sabotage is less charming.”
Her face changed.
There.
Got you.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Richard Hale does.”
Her hand stopped around the water glass.
“He’s speaking to Ashford counsel.”
Celeste recovered.
“Then he’s lying.”
“About the payment too?”
“What payment?”
“Eighty-five thousand.”
Silence.
I watched her face.
“You thought I’d scream at Saurin.”
She said nothing.
“You thought I’d find the earring, assume betrayal, and file for divorce before the trust transfer.”
Still nothing.
“Almost worked.”
That made her smile.
Tiny.
Triumphant.
“Almost?”
My heart hammered.
I kept my face calm.
“Did you really think I’d stay with him after that?”
Her eyes brightened.
There it was.
She leaned back.
“No.”
“You were right.”
“I usually am.”
“You planned it well.”
Her smile grew.
“Some women require very little pressure.”
I forced myself not to react.
“The camera outage was clever.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“You know about that?”
“Hale talked.”
“He knows only what he was paid to do.”
The confession was so clean I almost stopped breathing.
I continued.
“And the earring?”
Celeste smiled.
“That was free.”
My pulse roared in my ears.
“You planted it.”
“I lost it.”
“In the sheets.”
“Accidents happen.”
“You touched Saurin.”
“I kissed a man I had kissed hundreds of times before.”
My stomach twisted.
“He rejected you.”
Her face hardened.
“For now.”
“He loves me.”
She laughed.
“That man doesn’t love anyone.”
“He does.”
“No. He attaches. He protects. He buys solutions. You’re confusing usefulness with devotion.”
My mother’s words inverted through someone else’s mouth.
I stood.
Celeste looked up.
“Leaving?”
“Yes.”
“You haven’t asked the important question.”
“What?”
Her smile turned cruel.
“Why did Saurin agree to marry you specifically?”
I froze.
“Harlon introduced us.”
“Yes.”
“But Saurin had rejected four women before you.”
“I know.”
“Did you ever ask why he didn’t reject you?”
I stared.
Celeste leaned forward.
“Ask him about Leora.”
My blood went cold.
“My mother?”
Her smile disappeared.
“Oh.”
That was genuine surprise.
“You really don’t know.”
I sat back down.
“What?”
Celeste looked almost pleased again.
“Ask your husband why he had a photograph of your mother years before he met you.”
My breath stopped.
The restaurant blurred.
She rose.
“Good luck with your divorce, Marin.”
Then she walked away.
I remained seated.
The recording device had captured enough to protect Saurin’s empire.
But Celeste had left me with something more dangerous than an earring.
A question.
When I returned to Beacon Hill, Saurin was waiting in the foyer.
He saw my face.
“What happened?”
I closed the door.
May you like
“Why did you have a photograph of my mother?”
And once again, the millionaire froze.
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