Chapter 5 - Unraveling the Web
Wesley slid the phone back into his coat pocket. He did not yell. He did not draw his gun. He walked to the liquor cabinet, poured two fingers of amber whiskey into a crystal tumbler, and drank it in one slow swallow.
"Lucas," Wesley murmured.
The heavy door opened, and Lucas entered, carrying a thick brown manila folder. He laid it flat on the low table in front of Celeste.
"I am a cautious man, Celeste," Wesley said, looking down at her. "When your father approached me six months ago proposing an alliance between the Vance logistics empire and the Cain harbor authority, I had your entire family investigated. At the time, your father’s books appeared clean. But three days ago, I noticed unusual currency transfers moving through the offshore banks in the Cayman Islands."
Celeste’s eyes darted toward the door, but two armed guards blocked the threshold like stone pillars.
"Your father did not want an alliance to expand his business," Wesley continued, pacing slowly around her chair. "He was drowning. The Moretti syndicate in the south had him by the throat with thirty million dollars in gambling and smuggling debts. The Morettis offered him a way out: take control of the Cain shipping corridors."
Wesley leaned down until his face was inches from Celeste’s ear. "The only obstacle was Norah. Because in my will, fifty-one percent of the Cain shipping authority is locked in a blind trust for Norah. If I died, you would inherit nothing as my widow unless Norah was already dead. If she died first of natural causes, and then we married, everything would pass to you—and through you, to the Morettis."
Celeste’s breath grew ragged. The haughty aristocrat had disintegrated. She looked at Wesley with pure, venomous hatred.
"You think you’re a king, Wesley?" she hissed, spitting the words through clenched teeth. "You’re nothing but a harbor thug in an expensive suit! You think you can build an empire and keep that useless, broken creature at your side forever? She’s a burden! A mute cripple holding you back! I was doing you a favor!"
Before the final word had fully left Celeste’s lips, Wesley’s hand shot out.
His fingers did not close around her neck; instead, he gripped the carved mahogany armrest of her chair and shattered the wood clean off with one violent jerk of his arm, splintering it into fragments that rained down upon her lap.
Celeste shrieked, cowering back against the cushions.
"You do not speak her name," Wesley whispered. His voice was lower than a grave, vibrating with a ferocity that made even his hardened guards shift uncomfortably. "Norah has more humanity in her little finger than your entire bloodline possesses. You entered my house under the guise of an angel, smiled at my table, stroked my sister’s hair, and fed her poison with the other hand."
Wesley stood up, brushing wood splinters from his cuff.
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"Lucas. Secure the Vance estate. Seize their docks, seize their bank accounts, and bring Magistrate Vance to Warehouse 4 before dawn. As for Celeste..." Wesley looked down at her with total detachment. "...take her to the basement cells. We will let the Moretti family know their little scheme has collapsed."
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