Chapter 9
Sirens wailed in the distance, cutting through the heavy rain.
Red and blue flashing lights painted the grand gates of the Costello estate.
Federal agents and local police cruisers poured into the courtyard, surrounding the Mercedes.
Arthur and Victoria were hauled out of the car in handcuffs, their expensive clothes ruined by the mud.
Victoria screamed obscenities as she was shoved into the back of a black-and-white cruiser.
Clara watched them leave with a strange sense of emptiness.
The twenty-year ghost that had haunted her life was finally gone.
Damian walked over to her, holding a dry umbrella over her head.
“You’re soaking wet,” Damian said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.
“I don’t mind,” Clara replied, looking up at the sky. “It feels clean.”
Damian led her back inside the grand foyer, away from the flashing lights and police chatter.
The staff stood in a semi-circle near the stairs, watching in respectful silence.
Chef Gerard walked up to Clara and handed her a fresh, warm mug of tea.
“You saved the dinner, Clara,” Gerard said with a small smile. “And more than that.”
“Thank you, Gerard,” Clara said, taking the mug.
Damian gestured toward his private study.
“Come inside,” Damian said. “We have matters to discuss regarding your mother’s estate and her rightful position here.”
Clara followed him back into the study, where the broken window had already been covered with heavy plastic sheeting.
Damian sat behind his desk, but this time, he motioned for Clara to sit in the leather chair opposite him.
“Your mother was never an employee in the traditional sense,” Damian began, opening a black leather ledger. “She was my father’s most trusted auditor.”
Clara leaned forward. “Why did everyone think she was a thief?”
“Because Arthur needed a scapegoat to cover his own multi-million-dollar theft,” Damian explained. “My father died before he could clear her name. I spent ten years trying to find the truth, but I didn't have the missing ledger page.”
Clara reached into her pocket and pulled out the yellowed paper she had rescued earlier.
She slid it across the desk.
May you like
Damian picked it up. His eyes scanned the numbers and the initials at the bottom.
“The missing page,” Damian whispered in awe.
