Chapter 4 — The Mistress in My Penthouse
Chapter 4 — The Mistress in My Penthouse
Celeste woke up believing she had won.
She opened her eyes to sunlight spilling across white Egyptian cotton sheets.
For a moment, she forgot where she was.
Then she smiled.
The penthouse.
The ocean.
The private elevator.
The marble bathroom.
The enormous dressing room.
Everything Julian had promised her.
Everything Claire had supposedly lost.
Celeste stretched beneath the silk sheets and looked around.
“This is mine now,” she whispered.
She believed it.
That was her first mistake.
Her second was believing Julian had told her the truth.
Three hours earlier, Julian had left the penthouse in a hurry.
He had promised to return before lunch.
He had kissed her forehead.
“Stay here.”
Celeste had smiled.
“Why?”
“Because I need to handle Claire.”
Celeste had laughed.
“You already did.”
Julian had looked at her.
“Not completely.”
Then he left.
Celeste watched the elevator doors close.
She turned around.
The penthouse was silent.
Beautiful.
Expensive.
Hers.
At least, that was what Julian had told her.
He had spent months whispering promises.
Claire is finished.
The marriage is over.
The company is mine.
The penthouse will be yours.
We'll travel.
We'll build our own life.
And eventually:
“You'll be Mrs. Vale.”
Celeste had believed every word.
She walked toward the closet.
Opened the doors.
Rows of Claire's clothing remained.
Designer gowns.
Shoes.
Handbags.
Jewelry.
Celeste frowned.
She called Julian.
No answer.
She tried again.
Nothing.
Her irritation grew.
She picked up one of Claire's handbags.
A black leather piece worth more than Celeste's annual salary.
She smiled.
“Guess this belongs to me too.”
She placed it on the bed.
Then her phone rang.
A friend.
“Is it true?”
Celeste smiled.
“What?”
“You're living in the Vale penthouse?”
Celeste looked around.
“Yes.”
“Oh my God.”
Her friend squealed.
“Did he finally leave Claire?”
Celeste laughed.
“Basically.”
“You're going to be his wife?”
“Eventually.”
“You're so lucky.”
Celeste looked at herself in the mirror.
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“I'm finally getting everything I deserve.”
At 10:18 a.m., the private elevator opened.
A woman in a navy suit stepped out.
Celeste didn't recognize her.
“Who are you?”
The woman held up a tablet.
“I'm from the Vale Family Property Office.”
Celeste frowned.
“Julian sent you?”
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
The woman looked around.
“Where is Mrs. Vale?”
Celeste smiled.
“She doesn't live here anymore.”
The woman looked at her.
“Who are you?”
Celeste hesitated.
“I'm Celeste Morgan.”
The woman's expression remained neutral.
“And your authorization?”
“My authorization?”
“To occupy this residence.”
Celeste laughed.
“Julian gave me permission.”
“I need documentation.”
“I don't have documentation.”
The woman nodded.
“Then you need to leave.”
Celeste stared.
“What?”
“This property is not authorized for your use.”
“You're mistaken.”
“No.”
“I live here.”
“No, you don't.”
Celeste's face reddened.
“You have no idea who I am.”
The woman looked at her tablet.
“I know exactly who you are.”
She tapped the screen.
“Your name is not listed on the ownership records.”
Celeste's stomach tightened.
“Julian owns this penthouse.”
The woman looked up.
“No.”
“He does.”
“No.”
Celeste stepped closer.
“You're lying.”
The woman turned the tablet around.
The property record was displayed.
Registered Owner: Vale Family Holdings.
Beneficial Trust: Vale Family Trust.
Authorized Resident: Claire Eleanor Vale.
Celeste stared.
“That can't be right.”
“It is.”
“But Julian said—”
She stopped.
The woman noticed.
“What did Mr. Vale say?”
Celeste swallowed.
“That he owned it.”
The woman smiled faintly.
“He doesn't.”
Celeste's heart began pounding.
“Then who does?”
“You already know.”
Celeste looked toward the window.
The ocean seemed suddenly very far away.
“Claire.”
“Yes.”
Celeste immediately called Julian.
He answered on the fourth attempt.
“What?”
“Where are you?”
“I'm busy.”
“The property office just came here.”
Silence.
“What did they say?”
“They said the penthouse isn't yours.”
Julian's breathing changed.
“Don't talk to them.”
“They said it's Claire's.”
“Celeste.”
“I thought you owned this place.”
“I'll handle it.”
“When?”
“I said I'll handle it.”
“Julian.”
“What?”
“Am I supposed to leave?”
Silence.
Celeste closed her eyes.
“Julian?”
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
“Stay there.”
“Why?”
“Because if you leave, it will look suspicious.”
She opened her eyes.
“What does that mean?”
“I'll call you back.”
The line went dead.
Celeste stared at the phone.
For the first time, she felt afraid.
Not of Claire.
Of Julian.
At noon, the penthouse security system changed.
The doors locked.
The private elevator stopped responding.
The wine cellar required new authorization.
Even the master bedroom became inaccessible.
Celeste walked into the hallway.
“What is happening?”
A security officer stood near the elevator.
“Mrs. Morgan.”
“Open the elevator.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Your access has been revoked.”
Celeste's voice rose.
“By whom?”
“Mrs. Vale.”
She laughed bitterly.
“She doesn't have the right.”
The security officer looked uncomfortable.
“She does.”
Celeste stared at him.
“You're all afraid of her.”
“No.”
He paused.
“We're employed by her.”
Celeste went silent.
That sentence hurt.
Not because of what it meant.
Because she suddenly understood how much she had misunderstood.
Julian had always told her the employees feared him.
But they weren't looking at her with fear.
They were looking at her with pity.
Celeste returned to the bedroom.
She began packing.
Then she stopped.
Something was sitting on the nightstand.
A small velvet box.
She opened it.
Inside was a necklace.
A diamond necklace she had seen Claire wear at the Monaco gala.
Celeste smiled.
She put it around her neck.
Then she noticed something beneath the box.
A folded photograph.
She picked it up.
It showed Julian and Claire standing together nine years earlier.
Behind them was an empty piece of land.
Julian was smiling.
Claire was holding architectural plans.
On the back, someone had written:
The beginning of everything.
Celeste stared at Claire's face.
She looked happy.
Proud.
Completely in love.
Then Celeste noticed the date.
Nine years ago.
Before the first resort.
Before the billions.
Before Julian became famous.
She turned the photograph over again.
There was another line beneath the first.
Never forget who built this.
Celeste's hands began shaking.
She searched the penthouse.
She didn't know what she was looking for.
Proof.
Answers.
Something that would tell her what Julian had hidden.
She found it in the study.
A drawer that wasn't locked.
Inside were old notebooks.
She opened one.
Architectural sketches.
Financial models.
Market research.
Names.
Numbers.
Strategy.
Every page was written in the same handwriting.
Claire's.
Celeste flipped through them faster.
She found the original resort design.
The membership system.
The international expansion plan.
The brand identity.
The crown logo.
The private villa model.
The loyalty program.
Everything.
At the bottom of almost every page was Claire's signature.
Celeste sat down.
“No.”
She turned another page.
There was an email.
From Julian.
Nine years earlier.
Claire, your strategy is brilliant. I'll present it to the investors tomorrow.
Celeste stared at the words.
Another email.
Don't worry about the ownership structure. Your father and I have an understanding.
Another.
You don't need to be in the room. Let me handle the investors.
Celeste's breathing became shallow.
Then she found the worst one.
If Claire ever asks about the founder title, tell her it doesn't matter. Once we're married, everything becomes ours anyway.
Celeste dropped the paper.
“Oh God.”
She heard footsteps.
She looked up.
Julian stood in the doorway.
His face was exhausted.
His tie was loosened.
His eyes were darker than she had ever seen them.
“What are you doing?”
Celeste stood.
“Reading.”
“Put those away.”
“No.”
He froze.
“What?”
She held up the email.
“You lied to me.”
Julian stepped forward.
“Celeste.”
“You told me you built everything.”
“I did.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“She did.”
He looked at the papers.
“Claire helped.”
“Helped?”
Celeste laughed.
“She designed the entire company.”
Julian's jaw tightened.
“You don't understand business.”
“Maybe not.”
She pointed toward the documents.
“But I understand handwriting.”
She threw the email onto the desk.
“Her name is everywhere.”
Julian said nothing.
“You told me she was useless.”
Silence.
“You told me she only spent money.”
Nothing.
“You told me she had no role in the company.”
Julian looked away.
“You believed me.”
Celeste's voice cracked.
“I believed you because I loved you.”
He finally looked at her.
“And now?”
She stared at him.
“I don't know what I believe.”
Julian walked toward her.
“Listen to me.”
“No.”
“Celeste.”
“You promised me this penthouse.”
“It will be yours.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“It will.”
“The property office says it belongs to Claire.”
“It doesn't matter.”
“It matters to me.”
He grabbed her arm.
She pulled away.
“Don't touch me.”
His expression changed.
“I am trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“From her.”
Celeste laughed bitterly.
“You should be protecting yourself.”
Julian stared.
“You don't understand what Claire is doing.”
“I understand enough.”
She pointed at the documents.
“She owns the property.”
Julian said nothing.
“She owns the company.”
“Not all of it.”
“She built the business.”
“Stop.”
“She owns the land.”
“Stop talking.”
“And you cheated on her.”
Julian's face went cold.
“Be careful.”
Celeste stared back.
“Why?”
“Because you don't know what you're saying.”
“I know exactly what I'm saying.”
She stepped closer.
“You've been sleeping with me for eleven months.”
Julian froze.
Celeste realized too late what she had said.
The study door was open.
Someone was standing in the hallway.
Daniel.
Claire's chief security adviser.
His phone was in his hand.
Celeste's blood ran cold.
Daniel looked at Julian.
Then at Celeste.
“Thank you.”
Julian's face drained of color.
“What?”
Daniel lifted the phone.
“You just confirmed the affair.”
Celeste stared.
Julian lunged toward him.
Daniel stepped backward.
Two security officers appeared behind him.
Julian stopped.
“Give me the phone.”
“No.”
“You're recording me?”
“I was documenting unauthorized occupancy.”
Daniel smiled.
“But you gave me something much more valuable.”
Celeste's face went pale.
“You recorded everything?”
“Enough.”
Julian looked at Celeste.
She shook her head.
“I didn't know.”
Daniel walked away.
Julian turned toward her.
“You just destroyed us.”
Celeste stared at him.
“No.”
Her voice was quiet.
“You destroyed us.”
That night, Celeste sat alone in the penthouse.
She had removed the diamond necklace.
It lay on the table.
Beside it were Claire's notebooks.
The woman Celeste had hated for months suddenly seemed different.
Not weak.
Not irrelevant.
Not foolish.
Dangerous.
Because Claire hadn't been fighting for Julian.
She had been fighting for the truth.
Celeste looked out at the city.
She picked up her phone.
There was one number she had never expected to call.
Claire's.
Her finger hovered over it.
Then she pressed call.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Claire answered.
“Celeste.”
Celeste closed her eyes.
“How did you know it was me?”
“I knew you'd call eventually.”
Celeste swallowed.
“I found the documents.”
“I know.”
“You knew I'd find them?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Julian always hides things in the same places.”
Celeste almost laughed.
Almost cried.
“I was wrong about you.”
Claire was silent.
Celeste looked at the diamond necklace.
“I want to tell you everything.”
Another silence.
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
“The affair?”
“Yes.”
“The meetings?”
“Yes.”
“The money?”
Celeste hesitated.
“There is something else.”
Claire's voice became colder.
“What?”
“Julian has been moving money.”
“How much?”
“I don't know.”
“Where?”
Celeste took a breath.
“Into an account in Switzerland.”
Claire said nothing.
“There's another person involved.”
“Who?”
Celeste looked at the study door.
Then whispered:
“Your husband's mother.”
Silence.
Claire's voice finally came.
“My mother-in-law?”
“Yes.”
“And there's more.”
“What?”
Celeste looked at the documents scattered across the table.
“I think Julian didn't start this affair because he wanted me.”
Claire closed her eyes on the other end.
“Then why?”
Celeste whispered:
“Because someone told him to get close to me.”
“Who?”
“I don't know yet.”
Claire's voice became very quiet.
“Find out.”
Celeste swallowed.
“And if I do?”
“Then you may have a chance to save yourself.”
The call ended.
Celeste stared at the dark screen.
For the first time since she had entered the penthouse, she no longer felt like the winner.
She felt like a witness.
A witness who had accidentally walked into the center of a much larger crime.
And somewhere across the city, Claire Vale was beginning to understand that Julian's betrayal had never been only about another woman.
It had been about control.
Money.
Ownership.
And a secret someone had been willing to destroy a marriage to protect.
Celeste looked once more at Claire's signature on the old documents.
Then she whispered to the empty room:
“I should have known.”
May you like
Because the woman she had replaced had never truly left.
She had only stepped outside long enough to remember exactly what belonged to her.
