Chapter 3 - The Deal Behind the Engagement

Nicolas looked at the locked door.

Then at Henri.

“You followed us.”

Henri removed his gloves.

“I came to prevent another mistake.”

Diana stepped forward.

“You mean another witness.”

Henri ignored her.

Celeste moved between them.

“Dad, don’t.”

Henri looked at his daughter.

“You have already done enough.”

Nicolas stared at Celeste.

“You intercepted my mother’s letters?”

Celeste’s face collapsed.

“Some.”

“How many?”

“Three.”

I looked at the stack.

There were seven.

Henri smiled.

“The office handled the others.”

Nicolas turned toward him.

“So she is telling the truth.”

Henri shrugged.

“About that.”

Diana’s hands tightened.

Nicolas held up the black folder.

“And this?”

Henri’s expression changed.

Not fear.

Recognition.

“You kept a copy.”

Diana nodded.

“I kept many things.”

Nicolas looked at her.

Henri stepped closer.

“The arrangement is legal.”

Nicolas laughed.

“An engagement condition hidden inside corporate trusts?”

“Families structure assets every day.”

“Do families usually fake funerals first?”

Henri’s face hardened.

Celeste whispered:

“Nicolas.”

He turned.

“Did you know our marriage controlled the ports?”

She nodded.

His jaw tightened.

“When?”

“Eight months ago.”

“We became engaged six months ago.”

“I know.”

“Did you love me before you knew?”

“Yes.”

“Did you say yes after you knew?”

Celeste began crying.

“Yes.”

Nicolas looked down.

That answer hurt more than the lie.

Henri stepped in.

“She made the practical decision.”

Nicolas looked at Edwin.

“For who?”

“For both families.”

Diana laughed quietly.

Henri’s eyes moved to her.

“You always enjoyed making morality sound simple.”

Diana answered:

“You always enjoyed making greed sound complicated.”

The greenhouse went silent.

Nicolas looked at his mother.

“You said my father was building a case.”

Diana nodded.

“Where is it?”

Henri’s face changed.

Small.

But Nicolas saw it.

“So it still exists.”

Henri said nothing.

Diana looked at the roses.

“Your father hid evidence before he died.”

Nicolas stared.

“My father died nine years ago.”

“Yes.”

“In an accident.”

Henri looked toward the glass roof.

Diana did not.

“No.”

Nicolas stopped breathing.

Celeste covered her mouth.

Henri said:

“Diana.”

She looked at Nicolas.

“Your father did not die in an accident.”

Nicolas’s voice became almost quiet.

“How?”

Diana swallowed.

“He was poisoned.”

Edwin whispered:

“Jesus.”

Nicolas looked at Henri.

Henri remained still.

“You?”

Henri smiled sadly.

“If I had killed your father, Diana would have told you that first.”

Nicolas looked back at her.

“Then who?”

“I do not know.”

Henri interrupted.

“You knew enough.”

Diana turned.

“I knew he was sick before dinner.”

Nicolas frowned.

“What dinner?”

“The last night of his life.”

Diana looked at Henri.

“Our fathers met at Armand House.”

Nicolas stared.

“My father had dinner with Henri the night he died?”

“Yes.”

Henri sighed.

“He was alive when he left.”

Diana’s voice sharpened.

“Barely.”

Celeste looked at her father.

“You never told me.”

Henri turned.

“You were twenty.”

“I was old enough.”

“No.”

Celeste stared.

“Stop saying that.”

Henri looked surprised.

She stepped away from him.

“Everyone keeps deciding what everyone else is old enough to know.”

Nicolas looked at her.

For the first time that night, she sounded like him.

Henri ignored it.

He looked at Nicolas.

“Your father had enemies.”

“So do you.”

“Yes.”

“Did you poison him?”

“No.”

Nicolas watched his face.

Henri continued.

“He came to threaten me.”

“With the evidence?”

“Yes.”

“What evidence?”

Henri looked at Diana.

She answered.

“A ledger.”

Nicolas frowned.

“Paper?”

“And recordings.”

“Of who?”

“Henri.”

Henri smiled faintly.

“Among others.”

Nicolas turned to him.

“My father recorded you.”

“Yes.”

“Where is it?”

“I never found it.”

Diana looked at Nicolas.

“Neither did I.”

Nicolas looked around the greenhouse.

At the roses.

At the benches.

At the old brick floor.

Then remembered something.

He was five.

His mother kneeling beside him.

His father standing at the door.

A game.

A metal box beneath the soil.

Nicolas turned toward the far corner.

Diana followed his eyes.

“What?”

He walked toward an old planting bed.

Edwin frowned.

“Nicolas?”

He knelt.

Moved a clay pot.

Then another.

Beneath them was a rusted iron ring.

Diana stopped.

Henri’s expression changed.

Nicolas pulled.

A narrow floor panel lifted.

Inside was a metal box.

Diana whispered:

“Marco.”

Nicolas looked at her.

“My father?”

She nodded.

Nicolas lifted the box.

Henri moved forward.

Celeste stepped in front of him.

“No.”

Henri stared at his daughter.

“Move.”

“No.”

Nicolas opened the box.

Inside:

A cassette recorder.

Three tapes.

A ledger.

And a sealed envelope.

NICOLAS.

His father’s handwriting.

Nicolas touched the name.

His hand shook.

Henri whispered:

“Do not open that here.”

Nicolas looked at Edwin.

“Why?”

“Because some truths cannot be put back.”

Nicolas tore the envelope open.

One page.

Nico,

If you are reading this, I failed to clean up the life I helped build.

Nicolas stopped.

Diana began crying.

He continued.

Henri and I hid money.

We paid people.

We ruined people.

I will not ask you to forgive that.

Nicolas looked at Henri.

Then back at the page.

But I learned too late that Henri is not the only man I should fear.

Nicolas frowned.

The next line made his face change.

The person controlling the accounts is inside the Moretti family.

He looked at Diana.

“Who?”

She shook her head.

“I never knew.”

Nicolas read the final sentence.

If anything happens to me, do not trust the man who inherits my chair.

Nobody moved.

Nicolas whispered:

“The man who inherited his chair.”

Edwin looked at him.

“Who was that?”

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Nicolas looked toward the greenhouse door.

“My uncle.”