CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 5
CELESTE MONROE’S LAST GAME
The first thing I noticed when I entered Nathan’s office was that everything was exactly the same.
The same black marble desk.
The same glass walls overlooking the city.
The same expensive paintings chosen to make visitors feel small.
But the man sitting behind that desk was different.
Three weeks earlier, Nathan Ashford had been the kind of man people waited for.
Executives adjusted their schedules for him.
Bankers returned his calls immediately.
Politicians smiled when he entered a room.
Now?
He sat alone in an empty office while employees whispered outside the door.
Power was strange.
Everyone wanted to stand beside it.
Almost nobody wanted to stand beside its remains.
Nathan looked at me for a long time.
Not angry.
Not arrogant.
Something worse.
Confused.
“You really came.”
I closed the door behind me.
“You asked me to.”
He gave a quiet laugh.
“That’s new.”
“What?”
“You listening to me.”
The old Claire would have reacted.
The old Claire would have explained.
The old Claire would have tried to prove she was not cruel.
But that woman no longer existed.
“I didn’t come here because you asked.”
I walked closer.
“I came because I wanted to see what was left after the mask fell.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened.
“You think you’re better than me now?”
“No.”
I looked around the office.
“I think I finally understand you.”
That answer bothered him.
Because anger would have been easier.
Hate would have been easier.
Understanding meant I saw him clearly.
And people like Nathan feared being seen more than being hated.
He stood.
“Claire, things got out of control.”
I almost smiled.
Out of control.
That was the phrase people used when they wanted to make cruelty sound accidental.
“You beat me because things got out of control?”
His expression changed.
“I made mistakes.”
“No.”
My voice was calm.
“You made choices.”
Silence.
He looked away.
For the first time, I wondered if Nathan had ever truly faced himself.
Not the CEO.
Not the husband.
Not the public image.
The man underneath.
Apparently not.
“I loved you.”
I stared at him.
“Did you?”
His eyes lifted.
“Yes.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
His face hardened.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“I do.”
I stepped closer.
“Because I was the person you claimed to love.”
The room became quiet.
“You didn’t love me, Nathan.”
“You loved the access I gave you.”
“You loved the family name.”
“You loved the idea that you could take everything from me and I would still stay.”
His silence answered for him.
Then he said something unexpected.
“Celeste betrayed me.”
There it was.
The real reason he wanted to talk.
Not regret.
Not apology.
Betrayal.
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
“You’re angry because the person you chose over me hurt you.”
Nathan looked away.
“She disappeared.”
I said nothing.
“She took files.”
Still nothing.
“She moved money before the accounts froze.”
Now I understood.
Nathan was not asking me for forgiveness.
He was afraid.
The person he trusted had escaped.
And he was finally realizing what I had known for years.
Celeste Monroe never loved him.
She loved what he could provide.
“What did she take?”
I asked.
Nathan hesitated.
That hesitation told me everything.
“Something important.”
“What?”
He looked at me.
“The original Project Veil documents.”
My stomach tightened.
My father was right.
There were still pieces missing.
“Why would Celeste want those?”
Nathan laughed bitterly.
“Because she knows something about your family.”
I stayed silent.
“What?”
He walked toward the window.
“Something even I didn’t know until recently.”
The city stretched beneath us.
Millions of people living ordinary lives.
Completely unaware of the war happening inside this building.
“Celeste wasn’t just my consultant.”
I waited.
“She was investigating your father.”
The words landed heavily.
“Why?”
Nathan looked at me.
“Because someone paid her.”
“Who?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
For once…
I believed him.
Because Nathan was many things.
A liar.
A manipulator.
A man who hurt people.
But right now, he looked genuinely afraid.
Before I could ask more, his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
The color disappeared from his face.
“What?”
I watched him listen.
Then:
“No.”
A pause.
“Where?”
Another pause.
He looked at me.
“She contacted you.”
I frowned.
“Who?”
Nathan slowly lowered the phone.
“Celeste.”
Ten minutes later, I was sitting in a private conference room with my father, Rachel, and two investigators.
Nathan’s message had changed everything.
Celeste wanted a meeting.
Not with Nathan.
With me.
My father immediately rejected the idea.
“She is dangerous.”
“I know.”
“She will try to manipulate you.”
“I know.”
“She may have information.”
He stopped.
Because he knew.
That was the problem.
Celeste was dangerous.
But she was also a key.
Rachel placed a file on the table.
“We found more information about her.”
I opened it.
Celeste Monroe.
Thirty-eight years old.
Former financial analyst.
Worked for multiple corporations.
No criminal record.
No public scandals.
Almost too clean.
“She built this identity carefully,” Rachel said.
I looked at the photograph.
Celeste smiling at cameras.
Celeste attending charity events.
Celeste standing beside Nathan.
A perfect woman.
A perfect illusion.
“What did we miss?”
I whispered.
Rachel turned another page.
“Her past.”
I looked down.
A name appeared.
Celia Maren Monroe.
My eyes narrowed.
“What?”
Rachel pointed.
“Celeste changed her name ten years ago.”
“Why?”
Silence.
Then my father answered.
“Because her original name connects to an old investigation.”
I looked at him.
“You know her?”
His expression hardened.
“Yes.”
That surprised me.
“Who is she?”
My father took a breath.
“She is the daughter of a man who tried to destroy Vale Dominion fifteen years ago.”
The room went silent.
“Her father?”
“Was responsible for the death of several people connected to our investigation.”
I stared at the file.
So this was never only about Nathan.
Celeste had her own war.
And I had been standing in the middle of it without knowing.
That night, the meeting location arrived.
An abandoned private club outside the city.
My father wanted security.
I agreed.
I was no longer naive.
But I also understood something.
The truth was not going to come to me.
I had to walk toward it.
When I entered the abandoned club, the lights were dim.
The room smelled like dust and old wood.
Then I heard applause.
Slow.
Mocking.
Celeste stepped out of the shadows.
She looked different.
No designer dress.
No perfect makeup.
No confident smile.
Just a woman who had finally lost control.
“Claire Bennett.”
She smiled faintly.
“I wondered when you would finally stop pretending to be ordinary.”
I stared at her.
“You used Nathan.”
She laughed.
“Of course I did.”
The honesty surprised me.
“You’re not even denying it?”
“No.”
She walked closer.
“Nathan was useful.”
“And you?”
Her smile faded.
“I was useful to everyone.”
For the first time, I saw something beneath her cruelty.
Pain.
Not enough to excuse her.
But enough to explain her.
She reached into her coat.
My security team moved instantly.
But she only removed a small envelope.
She placed it on the table.
“This is why Nathan married you.”
I stared at the envelope.
“What is it?”
Celeste looked directly at me.
“The truth about your father.”
My heart stopped.
“My father?”
She nodded.
“And the reason your entire marriage was built on a lie.”
I opened the envelope.
Inside was one photograph.
A photograph of Nathan.
Standing beside my father.
Taken years before I ever met Nathan.
On the back, there was a handwritten message.
THE DAUGHTER WAS NEVER THE TARGET.
I looked up.
Celeste was gone.
And for the first time…
I wondered if Nathan Ashford had been the villain of my story.
Or just another piece on someone else’s chessboard.
May you like
END OF CHAPTER 5
NEXT: CHAPTER 6 — THE WOMAN BEHIND THE WAR
