Chapter 75
The Veridan estate loomed in the distance as Celestina’s car rolled up the gravel driveway. The grand mansion, framed by manicured gardens and tall iron gates, felt more imposing than she remembered.
As the car stopped, she hesitated before stepping out. Kael hadn’t invited her. In fact, they hadn’t spoken much since she’d moved back into her father’s palace. Still, she couldn’t ignore the questions gnawing at her—questions only he could answer.
The butler opened the door for her, bowing slightly. “Madam, welcome to the Veridan estate.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, glancing around. The air was heavy with a strange stillness. Where were the servants? The vibrant energy that used to hum through the estate felt completely drained.
“I’d like to see Kael,” she said, clutching her bag tightly.
“He’s in his office,” the butler replied. “Shall I fetch him?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I’ll find him myself.”
The butler hesitated, then nodded. “As you wish.”
The halls of the estate were eerily silent as Celestina walked through them. Her heels clicked softly on the marble floors, echoing faintly. The familiar paintings, the grand chandeliers—they were all the same, yet the atmosphere felt… wrong.
She passed several locked doors, her hand brushing the cool brass handles. What was Kael hiding behind them?
The sound of muffled voices caught her attention, but when she turned the corner, the hallway was empty. A shiver ran down her spine, but she pushed forward, determined.
Kael’s office was at the far end of the east wing, the door slightly ajar. She peeked in, her heart pounding.
The room was a mess. Papers and files were scattered across the large oak desk, some spilling onto the floor. Celestina stepped inside, her eyes scanning the chaos.
She leaned over the desk and picked up a file. Her breath caught as she saw her father’s name printed at the top, followed by rows of financial data. Her father’s business dealings were detailed in meticulous notes, some marked with red ink.
“What is this?” she whispered, flipping through the pages. Some of the annotations hinted at corruption—offshore accounts, questionable partnerships—but the language was cryptic, as though written to conceal the full truth.
Another file caught her attention. This one had her name on it.
Before she could open it, the sound of faint laughter drifted through the open window. She froze, her heart skipping a beat. The laugh was light, almost musical, but it carried a sharp edge that made her skin prickle.
She set the file down carefully, moving toward the window. The laugh came again, this time louder, and it was unmistakable. Liora.
The garden was bathed in soft sunlight as Celestina stepped outside, her eyes scanning the space. And there she was.
Liora sat at a small table near the rose bushes, sipping tea from an ornate porcelain cup. Her posture was relaxed, her golden hair gleaming in the light. She looked up as Celestina approached, her smile sharp and knowing.
“Oh, Celestina,” Liora said, setting her cup down with a soft clink. “I was wondering when you’d finally come to visit.”
