CHAPTER 2: Celeste Smiles for the Room

Celeste had wanted a public ending.
She did not want Grant to leave his wife with paperwork and a polite statement. She wanted Amelia erased in front of marble, gold, and witnesses too frightened to speak.
The gala had ended twenty minutes earlier.
Guests had gone home praising the Cross estate, the rare champagne, the flowers flown in from Paris, and the gracious pregnant hostess who never raised her voice.
Celeste waited until only family staff remained.
Then she stepped close on the stairs and whispered, “You should have left when he asked.”
Amelia had answered, “This house is not yours.”
That was when Celeste’s expression changed.
There was one sharp shove, one shocked breath, one hand missing the banister before Amelia caught the lower rail and slid down to her knees.
Now Celeste stood beside Grant, pretending to tremble.
“She lost her balance,” she said.
Amelia looked at the chandelier above them.
Its tiny black camera lens reflected the whole lie.