Chapter 15 - The Serious Setback
Alexander sought an emergency injunction blocking the property transfer.
The judge granted only a forty-eight-hour temporary preservation order.
After that, Alexander would need stronger evidence that Marlowe Arts lacked lawful title.
“Celeste’s signature was forged,” he argued.
“Likely forged,” Miriam corrected.
Alexander glared.
“Language matters.”
“So does losing two hundred million dollars of property.”
Miriam remained calm.
“We need the original conveyance file or evidence tying the fraudulent signature to Sebastian.”
The document archive had been incomplete.
Richard’s files were partly destroyed after his death.
Sebastian’s attorneys claimed originals no longer existed.
Maya searched St. Aurelia’s records again.
Nothing.
Victoria searched her mother’s papers.
Nothing.
Elena searched memory.
That was worse.
Three decades blurred details.
She remembered Celeste’s cloak.
The east lift.
The canvas.
But not where the original ledger went.
Then Sebastian won another victory.
A court dismissed several counts of his defamation suit but allowed limited claims related to statements Elena had made implying he intentionally murdered Celeste.
His lawyers immediately demanded discovery.
Private messages.
Financial records.
Medical records.
Thirty years of life.
Elena felt violated.
“They want to exhaust you,” Miriam said.
“It’s working.”
Alexander offered to pay.
Elena refused.
“You already have enough accusations that you bought me.”
“Then let me arrange independent funding.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“I said no.”
Her pride cost her.
Two weeks later, she borrowed against her apartment.
Maya discovered it and was furious.
“You might lose your home.”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
Elena snapped, “Stop treating me like I’m helpless.”
Maya went silent.
Elena immediately regretted it.
Everyone was breaking under pressure.
Victoria’s voice began failing.
Not permanently.
Stress.
Her doctor ordered rest.
She interpreted it as punishment.
“My career is ending.”
Elena said, “Your voice needs time.”
“I’m thirty-eight. Time is not neutral for singers.”
That was true.
Alexander lost two Reed International board votes after investors questioned his judgment.
He remained chairman but no longer looked invulnerable.
Then Detective Foster delivered the worst news.
Sebastian’s midnight-blue tuxedo had been altered extensively in 2001.
The missing silk fragment could not be conclusively matched to the fiber from Celeste’s ring.
Another promising clue weakened.
The prosecutor still had the remains.
The cover-up memo.
The financial motive.
Victoria.
Elena.
But Sebastian’s defense had begun building an alternative story.
Celeste confronted Richard.
Richard became violent.
Sebastian tried to intervene.
Celeste fell accidentally.
Richard forced Sebastian to help conceal her death.
The cassette, they argued, supported that possibility.
Alexander hated it because parts could not be disproved.
“What if that’s true?” he asked Elena.
She thought carefully.
“I saw Sebastian after.”
“And?”
“He was calm.”
“That doesn’t prove murder.”
“No.”
“Richard was crying.”
“Yes.”
Alexander looked away.
“Maybe Sebastian didn’t intend to kill her.”
Elena said, “Intent matters legally.”
“And morally?”
“Yes.”
He turned.
“But?”
“Thirty years after an accident becomes a different crime.”
Alexander nodded.
Sebastian could not undo the first second.
He had chosen every second afterward.
Then Maya found a photograph.
It had been buried in a 1996 stage manager’s contact sheet.
Celeste stood backstage at 11:36 p.m.
The clock behind her was visible.
She wore the brooch.
She held a black ledger.
And beside her stood Elena.
Elena stared.
“I forgot this.”
Maya looked at the photograph.
“You look scared.”
“I was.”
Behind them, reflected faintly in a mirror, stood Sebastian.
Watching.
The image confirmed Celeste possessed the ledger minutes before the time written in the brooch.
But the real discovery appeared when Maya enlarged the mirror.
Someone else stood behind Sebastian.
Richard.
Both men had followed Celeste.
The photograph destroyed their claim that Celeste met them separately.
But not enough to establish who caused the fatal blow.
Then Victoria arrived with something better.
A digital recorder.
“My father called me last night.”
Alexander frowned.
“You recorded him?”
“Yes.”
“Legally?”
“We were both in New York. One-party consent.”
Miriam nodded.
Victoria pressed play.
Sebastian’s voice filled the room.
“You think helping Reed will save you?”
Victoria answered, “I’m not trying to be saved.”
“You will lose everything.”
“So did Celeste.”
Silence.
Then Sebastian:
“Celeste lost because she believed Richard would choose her over his empire.”
Victoria said, “Did you push her?”
A long pause.
Sebastian answered:
“I took the ledger from her.”
“And?”
“She fought me.”
“And?”
“She fell.”
“Did you mean to kill her?”
“No.”
“Then why hide her?”
“Because your entire life exists because I did.”
Victoria’s breathing was audible.
“What does that mean?”
“The Orpheus money built Marlowe Arts. It funded you. Your schools. Your coaches. Your career.”
Victoria whispered, “So I was right.”
“No. You were spoiled.”
“You buried a woman and bought me arias.”
Sebastian shouted, “I protected this family!”
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Miriam finally said, “That is powerful.”
Victoria looked sick.
Alexander asked, “Will you testify?”
“Yes.”
“Even if it destroys your father?”
Victoria looked at the broken brooch resting in its evidence case.
“He already did that.”
The preservation order would expire the following evening.
Sebastian planned to close the property sale the next morning.
May you like
And now, with Victoria’s recording, Detective Foster had enough for another warrant.
The final confrontation could no longer be avoided.
