Chapter 4
The guard's name was Owen Price.
He was fifty-three now.
He had been thirty-nine the night Elena died.
When my men brought him into the ballroom, he looked at Marcus first.
That told me enough to begin.
Marcus smiled.
“Careful, Owen.”
Owen stopped.
I turned toward Marcus.
“Was that a threat?”
“Advice.”
Owen laughed nervously.
“That word again.”
Marcus's expression hardened.
“What?”
Owen looked at me.
“He always called threats advice.”
I pulled out a chair.
“Sit.”
Owen did.
Celeste stayed near Marcus.
Lily had been taken upstairs with Adrian.
I wanted her nowhere near what came next.
“What happened at the north gate?”
Owen rubbed his hands together.
“Marcus ordered me off post.”
“Why?”
“Private arrival.”
“Who?”
“He never said.”
Marcus interrupted.
“Three years and suddenly he remembers everything.”
Owen looked at him.
“You told me my wife would lose her house if I asked questions.”
Marcus smiled.
“She probably would have.”
There.
No shame.
No denial.
Owen looked sick.
I leaned closer.
“Who came through?”
“A black sedan.”
“How many?”
“Two men.”
“Names?”
“I didn't know them.”
“What did they do?”
“They went toward the garage.”
My chest tightened.
Elena had died in a car crash less than four hours later.
I looked at Marcus.
He spread his hands.
“Lots of men walk through garages.”
Owen continued.
“One came back alone.”
Celeste shifted.
I noticed.
“Which car?”
Owen looked at me.
“Yours.”
Everything stopped.
“My car?”
He nodded.
Marcus's jaw tightened.
Owen continued.
“Elena left in it later.”
I remembered.
My car had been blocking hers.
She had been angry.
Late.
She took my keys.
I never thought about it again.
Because she died before sunrise.
I stood slowly.
Celeste rolled her eyes.
“There we go.”
I looked at her.
She smiled.
“Another coincidence turned into tragedy because everyone needs someone to blame.”
“Stop.”
“No.”
Her voice became sharper.
“She took your car without asking.”
I stared.
“She always did whatever she wanted.”
Marcus whispered:
“Celeste.”
She kept going.
“If she had used her own car like she was supposed to, maybe she'd still be alive.”
The room became silent.
I barely heard anything after that.
Because Celeste had just blamed my dead wife for dying in a car someone may have prepared for me.
Owen looked at her.
Then at me.
His face changed.
“There was something else.”
I turned.
“What?”
“The man who came through the gate asked Marcus which car Dante would use the next morning.”
Marcus went pale.
Celeste stopped breathing.
I stared at them.
The crash had not been planned for Elena.
It had been planned for me.
May you like
My wife had died because she took my car.
And the two people standing in front of me had known for three years.
