CHAPTER 2: The Paper Celeste Needed Signed

The document said Isabella accepted a modest settlement in exchange for waiving any future claim to Hart holdings.
The language was polished, legal, and cruel.
Celeste had chosen a fountain pen with a gold cap, the kind August had used when he signed hotel acquisitions and hospital grants. She placed it beside the folder like a knife dressed for dinner.
“Your father was generous,” Celeste said. “Do not become greedy after his death.”
Isabella looked down the table.
Preston did not meet her eyes.
He had spent years smiling for magazine covers beneath headlines about the Hart heir, even though August had never used that word around him. He preferred “my son” in public and “that boy needs numbers checked twice” in private.
Isabella knew because she had been the one checking them.
“I want my attorney to review this,” she said.
Celeste’s mouth tightened.
“You have no attorney.”
“Then I will get one.”
That was when Celeste stood.
The slap came so cleanly the room almost pretended it had not happened.