Chapter 3 - THE WEB OF BETRAYAL
As the echo of Nolan’s phone call faded, Celeste’s face drained of what little color remained. Her manicured nails dug into the cream-colored velvet of the chair until the fabric strained.
A DNA test.
If Nolan proved the child was his, everything changed. Under the terms of the Sterling family trust, an illegitimate heir recognized by blood would secure a mandatory twenty-five percent stake in the primary holdings upon verification, effectively diluting any future matrimonial settlement Celeste hoped to secure. Furthermore, Nolan’s strict moral code meant he would likely marry the mother out of a sense of archaic obligation, casting Celeste out into the cold society pages as the discarded fiancée.
"You're out of your mind, Nolan," Celeste hissed, stepping directly into his line of sight, her voice dripping with venom. "You're letting some opportunistic gold-digger manipulate you with a rented brat. Don't you see what’s happening here? She’s been planted! Someone from the Vanguard board—maybe your cousin Richard—sent her here to sabotage your IPO next month!"
Nolan looked down at Celeste with a gaze so utterly devoid of warmth that she felt a physical chill run down her spine.
"Richard doesn't have the imagination for this," Nolan replied smoothly. "And unlike you, Celeste, I know the difference between a calculated corporate espionage plot and the terrified eyes of a mother who has spent years running away from me."
"Running from you?" Celeste laughed hysterically. "Please! Every woman in Manhattan would crawl over broken glass to be in her position! If she’s running, it’s because she’s playing a long con, waiting for the stakes to get high enough!"
"Enough, Celeste," Nolan snapped, his voice cracking like a whip. "You have crossed a line tonight. Marcus!"
The estate manager immediately stepped back into the room.
"Get Miss Vance’s luggage packed and loaded into her driver’s car," Nolan ordered, his eyes fixed forward. "She is returning to Manhattan tonight. The driver will escort her to her apartment."
Celeste’s jaw dropped. "You are throwing me out? Out of your house? For this—this nobody?!"
"This is my house," Nolan corrected quietly. "And you have abused your welcome. We are done, Celeste. The engagement was a mistake of convenience anyway."
Celeste stared at him, her chest heaving with rage and humiliation. She turned her venomous glare toward Mae, who was still holding Nora tightly.
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"You think you’ve won?" Celeste whispered, her voice trembling with malice as she leaned close to Mae’s ear. "Nolan Sterling doesn't love anyone. He destroys everything he touches. He will chew you up, spit you out, and leave you with nothing. Enjoy your five minutes in the spotlight, trash."
With a dramatic sweep of her designer coat, Celeste turned and marched out of the parlor, her departure punctuated by the slamming of the heavy oak front door.
