Chapter 5 - THE PENTHOUSE INVENTORY
At 11:07 p.m., the penthouse doors opened under the authority of the trust.
I entered with Margaret, two security officers, a digital forensics specialist, and Thomas Reed.
Julian was not permitted to accompany us.
Celeste protested until Margaret informed her that interfering with the inventory could be treated as evidence tampering.
The penthouse had once been my sanctuary.
I had chosen the pale limestone floors because they reminded me of my grandmother’s house near the sea.
I had selected every painting.
I had planted herbs on the terrace.
Now a red silk dress lay across my bedroom chair.
Two champagne glasses stood beside the bed.
Celeste’s cosmetics covered my vanity.
A framed photograph of Julian and me had been placed face down inside a drawer.
I lifted it carefully.
The glass was cracked.
Thomas looked away.
“I am sorry,” he said.
“This is not your shame.”
The forensic specialist photographed everything before touching it.
Celeste’s luggage filled half my dressing room.
My clothes had been pushed into garment bags and stacked inside a service closet.
Then Marcus called from the study.
“We found the safe.”
The safe door stood open.
Inside were passports, cash, luxury watches, and several velvet jewelry boxes.
Most of the jewelry belonged to me.
Some pieces had disappeared over the previous two years.
Julian had blamed careless hotel staff.
He had quietly fired two housekeepers over a diamond bracelet now resting inside his safe.
My anger sharpened into something colder.
“Document every item,” I said.
Marcus opened the final box.
It was empty.
“The emerald pendant,” he said.
“Celeste is still wearing it.”
Margaret nodded.
“We will recover it downstairs.”
The forensic specialist connected a drive to Julian’s desk computer.
His eyebrows rose.
“This system has an encrypted partition.”
“Can you open it?” I asked.
“Not immediately.”
I walked to the bookshelf and pulled out a leather-bound volume on resort branding.
Behind it was a biometric switch.
Julian had installed the hidden compartment after our fifth anniversary.
He believed I had forgotten.
The wall panel slid open.
Inside were three phones, a set of foreign banking tokens, and a silver flash drive.
Thomas stared at the devices.
“Those are not registered with company security.”
“No,” I said.
“They are not.”
Margaret placed the items into evidence bags.
My phone rang.
It was my father.
“Where is Julian?” he asked.
“Downstairs.”
“Do not let him leave.”
“Why?”
“We found unauthorized transfers.”
“How much?”
“Twenty-two million dollars over eighteen months.”
I closed my eyes.
The number hurt less than the betrayal behind it.
“Where did it go?”
“Three shell companies.”
“Owned by whom?”
“We are tracing them.”
A voice came from the doorway.
“You do not need to.”
We turned.
Celeste stood between two security officers.
The emerald pendant was no longer around her neck.
Margaret held it inside an evidence pouch.
Celeste’s confidence had disappeared.
She looked directly at me.
“The companies belong to Julian,” she said.
May you like
Then she swallowed.
“But the accounts belong to me.”
