Chapter 184 This Wasn't Done by Me
Grandhaven International Airport.
Celeste pulled her cashmere coat tighter around herself and tugged the brim of her hat lower.
Sunglasses covered most of her face, but she was still terrified someone would recognize her. She kept her head down, weaving quickly through the crowd.
Leaving the seemingly safe estate in Ashbourne and returning to Grandhaven—this dangerous, treacherous place—had taken almost every ounce of courage she had.
A few days ago, Isabella had gone out on business and vanished. No contact since.
Celeste was already wound tight with worry for Alexander's safety, and underneath it all, the jealousy she felt toward Caroline gnawed at her constantly. All of it together had finally driven her to board this late-night flight.
She couldn't just sit around in Ashbourne doing nothing. She had to know what was happening in Grandhaven. At the very least, she needed to find out where Alexander was. And she had to confirm whether Caroline was really as triumphant as the news made her out to be.
She walked out of the airport in a fog of anxiety, raising her hand to flag down a taxi. But before she could open the door, a hand clamped down on her wrist.
Celeste gasped and jerked backward, nearly stumbling into the person behind her.
She looked up through her sunglasses at the man who had grabbed her.
Two men in black suits. Built like brick walls.
They stood blocking her path. One of them gave a slight nod.
"Miss, you need to come with us. The car's over there."
"Who are you? I don't know you! Get away from me!" Celeste's heart hammered in her chest. She spun around instinctively, but the other man stepped in front of her, cutting off her escape.
"Without Armando's arrangements, do you really think you could have gotten through customs so smoothly? Avoided all the surveillance?" The first man lowered his voice.
"Don't make this difficult. Please, miss."
Armando?
Celeste understood immediately.
No wonder the whole trip had gone so smoothly. He had been pulling strings behind the scenes.
But that realization only made her more afraid.
She had left Grandhaven in complete secrecy. Coming back, she had been even more careful—she had even used a fake identity to board the plane.
How did Armando know her itinerary?
Had she been under his surveillance from the moment she boarded—or even earlier?
A chill ran down her spine.
She opened her mouth to say something, but under the cold stare of the men in front of her, she closed it again.
She couldn't speak. She could only let herself be escorted—like a puppet on strings—toward the black Bentley parked nearby.
The car door opened. She was ushered inside.
It was warm in the car, but she was trembling.
She tried to speak. "May I ask... why Armando wants to see me?"
The guards did not respond. They kept their eyes forward and drove.
Celeste clenched her fists but did not dare say anything else.
The car glided smoothly away from the airport and merged into Grandhaven's late-night traffic, which was still surprisingly busy.
Eventually, they headed toward Long Island, turning into a private estate along a secluded stretch of coastline.
This was clearly one of Armando's personal residences.
She was taken directly to the study.
Armando was sitting by the fireplace, waiting for her.
When he heard footsteps, he looked up and took in Celeste's pale face. He smiled faintly.
"Sit down, miss. Or... should I call you Vivian?"
His politeness only made her blood run colder.
She did not have the option to refuse. She sat down stiffly on the sofa across from him, keeping her head low, waiting for the interrogation to begin.
"Long trip, wasn't it?" Armando set down his glass, his expression full of false concern.
"I heard you've been doing well in Ashbourne. And your mother—how is she?"
Celeste's chest tightened. She forced herself to stay calm. "Thank you for asking, Mr. Hamilton. We're both fine. May I ask... why did you want to see me?"
"Oh, nothing major." Armando picked up a cigar cutter and lit up, taking his time.
"Just some news about your sister... Caroline. I thought you might be interested."
Celeste's heart slammed against her ribs. She almost blurted out a question.
But she caught herself. That would be too obvious. She did not know if he was friend or foe yet. She forced herself to stay calm.
"Caroline? She... she's not..."
She wanted to say, Isn't she supposed to be insane? But she did not dare say it in front of Armando. That would reveal she had been keeping tabs on Caroline all along.
Armando was careful, meticulous. He would pick up on it immediately.
So Celeste held her tongue and waited for him to continue.
"She's pregnant." Armando's tone was casual.
Celeste froze.
Armando took a drag from his cigar and exhaled slowly, the smoke curling between them. Through the haze, his sharp eyes locked onto Celeste's face, watching her expression twist.
"Alexander's been hiding her on his private island in Coral Haven. Protecting her like she's the crown jewels. By my count, she's got about two more months before she's due."
"Are you serious?!" Celeste shot to her feet, her face draining of color.
"That's impossible! She... she's not..."
The last thing she had heard was a report from one of her contacts saying Caroline had had a mental breakdown at Grandhaven Hospital.
After that, Caroline had disappeared. Celeste had assumed Alexander had hidden her away somewhere.
But pregnant?
And Alexander was treating her like some precious treasure while she carried his child?
"Why would it be impossible?" Armando watched her lose control, a flicker of mockery in his eyes.
"Alexander treats her like she's made of glass. For her sake, he's willing to sell out the family's core interests. Oh, and you probably don't know this yet—someone recently sent Caroline a little gift. A present made from Charles's skin. Scared her half to death. That's why Alexander moved her to the island in such a hurry."
Charles was dead?
Celeste felt ice flood through her veins.
Her whole body went cold. Her teeth chattered.
Charles had been killed. Skinned.
And Armando was telling her this to her face, which meant only one thing: he knew about her involvement.
"No... it wasn't me!" Celeste's voice came out in a near-scream, pure instinct.
"I didn't even know Charles was dead! I haven't been in contact with him in two years! This has nothing to do with me!"