CELESTE
The freight elevator hummed with a low, vibrating groan as it ascended. My hands were shaking so violently I had to tuck them under my arms to keep Gabriel from noticing. I had him strapped into his carrier, his face pressed against my chest. He was quiet, sensing the predatory air that had filled the penthouse.
"Maya, where are you?" I hissed into the phone.
"Ten seconds, C. Get to the service entrance. Don't wait for the chime."
I bolted toward the back of the kitchen, past the rows of gleaming copper pots and the cold marble islands. I reached the heavy steel door just as the latch clicked. Maya stood there, but she wasn't alone.
Beside her was Miranda Cross.
Allen's mother looked like a portrait of old-world elegance even in the dimly lit service hallway. Her pearls caught the flickering fluorescent light, and her expression was unreadable—a perfect, diplomatic mask.
"Miranda?" I gasped, stepping back. "Are you here with the lawyers?"
"I am here for my grandson," Miranda said, her voice like velvet wrapped around a blade. She stepped into the kitchen, her eyes immediately finding Gabriel. "The Lawsons are at the front door with a court order, Celeste. They have a police escort. If you stay here, they will take him into protective custody under the claim that Allen's lifestyle is a danger to the child's safety."
"And what do you want?" I demanded, my grip tightening on Gabe.
"I want him safe. Which means I want him with me," Miranda replied. "I have a private jet waiting at Teterboro. We can be at the estate in the Hamptons before the sun sets. The Lawsons have no jurisdiction there; our security team owns the local police."
"You want to hide him," I realized, a cold dread settling in my gut. "You want to take him away from the scandal—and from me."
"I want to take him away from the fire," Miranda corrected. "You are the fuel, Celeste. As long as you are with him, the press will never stop. The Lawsons will never stop."
"She's right about the Lawsons, C," Maya whispered, her eyes wide. "I saw them in the lobby. Margot looks like she's ready to tear this building down."
ALLEN
"Time's up, Allen."
Anastasia stood in the center of my office, her phone held out like a detonator. On the screen was the photo of us—the proof of my "unprofessional" heart.
"The board is on line one," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of triumph and nerves. "The Lawson lawyers are on line two. Tell me you've made the right choice. Tell me you're firing her."
I looked at the photo. Then I looked at the woman I had trusted for five years. I felt a strange, liberating sense of clarity.
"I've made my choice," I said, my voice eerily calm.
I picked up the phone, but I didn't press line one or two. I hit the emergency broadcast for the entire building.
"This is Allen Cross," I said, my voice echoing through every floor of Apex Innovations. "Effective immediately, I am stepping down as CEO. I am appointing Leo Vance as interim chair. And to the members of the press waiting outside: The 'scandal' you're looking for isn't a secret. It's my son. And I will burn this entire company to the ground before I let any of you, or the Lawsons, touch him."
Anastasia's jaw dropped. "You're throwing it all away? For her?"
"No," I said, walking past her toward the door. "I'm finally keeping what matters."
I ran for the elevators. I didn't care about the board. I didn't care about the stock price. All I could think about was the look in Celeste's eyes when I told her she wasn't alone.
But when I reached the penthouse, the front door was hanging open. The Lawsons were standing in the foyer, screaming at my security team.
The living room was empty.
I sprinted to the kitchen, my heart hammering. The service door was ajar.
"Celeste!" I roared.
There was no answer. Only the fading hum of the freight elevator, descending into the dark. My mother had been here. I could smell her perfume—the scent of a gilded trap.
They were gone.