Chapter 6 - The Mother’s Vengeance
News of Adrian Vale’s dramatic arrest inside Halcyon Tower hit Wall Street like a seismic bomb.
By noon, financial news networks had replaced their regular programming with helicopter footage of Adrian and Greg being led out of the building in handcuffs, their faces pixelated but their designer suits instantly recognizable.
At the Vale family estate in the Hamptons, Celeste Vale stared at her television screen in absolute disbelief, dropping her antique porcelain teacup onto the Persian rug.
“It’s a lie... it’s all a filthy lie!” Celeste shrieked, pacing back and forth across her sprawling marble-floored drawing room, her diamond rings clicking together as she wrung her hands. “That wretched foster brat... how could she possibly outmaneuver us? Where did she get fifty-one percent voting power? It makes no sense!”
Her phone buzzed violently on the mahogany side table. It was her lead defense attorney, Harrison Cole.
“Harrison! Thank God,” Celeste gasped, answering on speakerphone. “Get Adrian out of holding immediately! Post bail, invoke corporate immunity, do whatever it takes! This is clearly a hostile corporate coup orchestrated by disgruntled ex-employees—”
“Mrs. Vale, stop,” Harrison interrupted, his voice uncharacteristically grim and exhausted. “There is no bail. The federal prosecutor has classified Adrian’s case as a non-bailable flight risk due to offshore accounts discovered in the Cayman Islands under his name.”
“Offshore accounts? That’s impossible! Those accounts belong to—” Celeste stopped short, her breath catching in her throat.
“They belong to shell companies registered under your maiden name, Mrs. Vale,” Harrison finished bluntly. “And forensic auditors have already frozen every single asset, trust fund, and property owned by the Vale family, including this estate.”
“Frozen?!” Celeste screamed, her voice cracking into a high-pitched shriek of pure panic. “You can’t freeze my assets! I am Celeste Vale! I sit on the Metropolitan Museum board! I donate millions to—”
“You donated money embezzled directly from Halcyon developmental funds,” Harrison corrected coldly. “Furthermore, Julian Ward’s legal team has filed a civil racketeering lawsuit against you personally for orchestrating the falsified adoption records twenty-three years ago.”
The phone went dead with a sharp click.
Celeste stood frozen in the center of her luxurious drawing room, the walls lined with expensive art she no longer owned, the crystal chandeliers glowing over a dynasty that had collapsed in less than twenty-four hours.
“Elena...” Celeste hissed, her fingernails digging deep into her own palms until skin broke. “You thinks you’ve won... you think you can destroy the Vale name and walk away scott-free... I’ll show you what real power looks like.”
She rushed to her antique desk, unlocked a hidden drawer with a small brass key, and pulled out an old, encrypted burner phone—a device she hadn't touched in over a decade.
She dialed a ten-digit number that didn't exist in any phonebook.
It rang twice before a raspy, deep voice answered on the other end.
“Speak,” the voice grunted.
“Victor,” Celeste whispered frantically, looking over her shoulder as if the walls themselves were listening. “It’s Celeste. I need you to do a job for me. A permanent one.”
“The price just went up, Celeste. The Vale family name isn't worth what it used to be on the news this morning.”
“Name your price,” Celeste snarled, her eyes wild with desperate fury. “Take everything I have left in the Swiss depository. Just make sure Elena Ward never sees another sunrise.”
“Consider it done,” the voice rasped before disconnecting.
May you like
Celeste lowered the phone, a twisted, triumphant smile spreading across her painted lips. “Enjoy your throne while it lasts, little orphan girl. Empires built on glass shatter very easily.”
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