Chapter 2 - The Sound of Accountability
"Elise!" Daniel’s voice boomed through the foyer, heavy with alcohol and panic. He didn't drop his keys; they hit the marble floor with a sharp clatter. His footsteps rushed toward the study, his tuxedo jacket unbuttoned, his silk tie loosened around his neck.
He stopped in the doorway, his chest heaving, his face still pale from the humiliation he had endured after I walked out of the ballroom. "You turned your phone off," he said, accusingly, though his voice lacked any real authority. "I called you eleven times. Do you have any idea what it looked like when you walked out of Charlotte’s reception holding a gift like a thief?"
"I didn't turn my phone off, Daniel," I said, not looking up from the documents on my desk. "I simply chose not to listen to your voice. There’s a distinct difference."
"Mom made a mistake," he stammered, stepping into the room, his hands shaking as he reached for the back of the leather chair opposite me. "She thought... she thought Celeste was just a colleague from the firm who didn't have a seat assignments. The reception was overcrowded. It was a catering error."
"A catering error with a gold-leaf calligraphy place card?" I finally raised my eyes, locking them onto his. The sheer lack of deception in my gaze made him take a half-step back. "Let’s not insult both of our intelligences, Daniel. Your mother spent four thousand dollars on those place cards alone. She hand-checked every table. She sat Celeste next to you because you’ve been sleeping with her for fourteen months, and your mother wanted to see if I had the stomach to endure it for the sake of the Hale name."
Daniel’s mouth opened, but no sound came out for several seconds. The lie had died so quickly in the room that he had nothing left to protect himself with. "How long?" he whispered.
"Since Savannah," I said, sliding the manila envelope across the desk. The glossy photographs spilled out—clear, sharp images of him kissing Celeste beneath the awning of the hotel. "I didn't hire Margaret Voss because I was jealous, Daniel. I hired her because I needed to know if your financial discrepancies at the firm were due to poor management or a mistress. It turns out, it was both."
He looked at the photos, his fingers twitching. "Elise, please. We can talk about this. Charlotte’s wedding... it was a high-stress environment. Mom shouldn't have done that, I agree, but divorcing over this? Think about the firm. Think about the press."
"I am thinking about the firm," I said, standing up and closing the leather binder. "Which is why my attorney has already filed the petition. By 8:00 AM, the Hale Group’s accounts will be frozen pending a forensic audit of the corporate card you used to buy Celeste’s red dress and her apartment lease in the North End."
"You can't do that," Daniel said, his voice dropping into a desperate, hard register. "That company is my father’s legacy."
"Your father’s legacy belongs to the shareholders now," I said, walking past him toward the hallway. "You have exactly ten minutes to pack a bag of your essentials. If you are still in this house by 1:00 AM, the security detail I hired will remove you for trespassing."
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"This is my home!" he shouted, turning to follow me.
"Check the deed, Daniel. It’s held by the Calder Trust. You are a guest who has overstayed his welcome." I turned at the base of the stairs, looking down at him. "Go to your mother’s house. She wanted Celeste to sit with people who make you happy. You can both sleep on her sofa tonight."
