Chapter 17 - The Brother Who Could No Longer SleepAdrian Pike began losing sleep long before the police contacted him.
He had stopped answering Celeste's calls.
He no longer visited the expensive restaurants where they once discussed business.
Instead, he spent his evenings inside his apartment, staring at records of payments he now wished he had never accepted.
The money had seemed easy at first.
Celeste introduced him to the foundation's administrators.
She said he could help expand the organization's services.
He had debts from failed business ventures, including a restaurant investment that collapsed and a loan personally guaranteed against his apartment.
He needed cash.
She needed someone willing to operate vendors without asking too many questions.
The arrangement began with legitimate-looking work.
A few equipment purchases.
Consulting meetings.
Transportation coordination.
Some services were genuinely delivered.
But soon Celeste demanded invoices for work that never took place.
Adrian protested.
She reminded him of his debts.
Then she offered him more money.
He agreed.
Each compromise made the next easier.
By the time he realized how large the scheme had become, his name appeared on contracts, bank accounts, and business filings that connected him to millions of dollars in questionable payments.
He was trapped by evidence of his own choices.
That evening, he met with a criminal defense attorney named Peter Lawson.
Lawson listened without interruption.
When Adrian finished, the attorney closed his notebook.
"You need to understand something."
Adrian swallowed.
"What?"
"Cooperation doesn't erase your responsibility."
"I know."
"If investigators can establish that you knowingly submitted false invoices and received proceeds, you may face serious charges."
Adrian looked down.
"Celeste told me nobody would get hurt."
Lawson's expression remained steady.
"Do you believe that now?"
Adrian shook his head.
He remembered Mia at family dinners.
The little girl used to wave when he entered.
Once, she had given him a drawing of a dog.
He had kept it in his apartment for months.
He never paid much attention to her beyond those moments.
To him, she had been part of Celeste's domestic life.
Now he understood that his financial misconduct had been carried out in her name.
"Can I help?" he asked.
"Possibly. But first I need you to tell me everything accurately."
Adrian looked toward the window.
"Even about my sister?"
"Especially about anyone involved."
That night, Lawson began arranging a lawful approach to the investigators.
Adrian would not receive immunity simply because he decided to cooperate.
Any potential agreement would depend on what he could substantiate and what prosecutors chose to do.
Meanwhile, Celeste was discovering how lonely wealth could become.
She had moved into the Manhattan apartment permanently.
Her temporary arrangements concerning the mansion had been replaced by formal legal restrictions.
Gabriel's divorce attorney had filed the necessary papers.
Celeste responded by demanding a substantial division of marital assets and access to financial records.
Her matrimonial lawyer explained that property acquired before marriage and certain inherited assets were not automatically hers, though the classification of individual assets would depend on applicable law and evidence.
Celeste hated hearing that.
She had married a billionaire.
She had expected security.
Now she was facing the possibility of financial exposure, divorce, and criminal charges.
She called Adrian again.
He did not answer.
So she left a message.
"After everything I've done for you, you owe me a conversation."
Minutes passed.
No reply.
Then an hour.
Finally, Adrian sent a single text.
Contact my lawyer if you need anything.
Celeste stared at the screen.
It felt like betrayal.
She did not consider that Adrian might view her demands the same way.
Instead, she opened the red folder and began reviewing financial records.
There were copies of vendor agreements.
Private notes.
Payment instructions.
Correspondence with Graham Vale.
She had kept them because she trusted documents more than people.
Documents could be hidden.
People could change their minds.
Near the back was a handwritten ledger tracking transfers that did not appear in the foundation's ordinary reports.
Celeste ran her finger down the page.
She needed to move money before investigators located everything.
But her attorneys had already warned her against transferring or concealing disputed assets.
Several accounts were under scrutiny.
Her options were narrowing.
Her phone rang.
It was an unfamiliar number.
She answered cautiously.
"Hello?"
A man's voice spoke.
"Mrs. Oleso? This is an investigator with the New York State Attorney General's office. I'm contacting you through counsel regarding records associated with the foundation."
Celeste's heart accelerated.
"I have an attorney."
"We understand. Please direct the request to your attorney."
The call ended.
Celeste remained motionless.
For months, she had told herself the accusations were only a domestic crisis.
A spiteful housekeeper.
An angry husband.
A confused child.
Now the state was examining her financial affairs.
She closed the red folder.
Then she did something she had never done in the presence of another person.
She cried.
Not for Mia.
Not for the families whose money had disappeared.
Not for the people she had threatened.
May you like
She cried because the life she had carefully constructed was beginning to collapse.
And this time, she could not identify anyone powerful enough to hold it together.
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