Chapter 5

"Looking for someone? Who are you trying to find?" Annie's expression flickered with confusion, and her voice was tinged with curiosity. "A death row inmate's daughter," Celeste replied softly. "That woman saved my life once, back when I was in prison. I promised I'd return the favor. So she asked me to look after her daughter after I got out." Annie hesitated, then asked gently, "What's her name? How old is she?" "Eloise Barker. She's six." Celeste's voice was barely above a whisper. Her complexion had improved just slightly. "Alright. I'll start drafting the divorce papers for you as soon as I can," Annie said, then gently tucked the blanket around her. "As for the little girl, I'll get someone on it. It might take a while, but once I hear anything, you'll be the first to know." "Thank you, Annie." A faint smile touched Celeste's lips, more a gesture of politeness than warmth. Annie noticed the pallor beneath that fragile smile and felt a flicker of worry. She reached out, gently patting the back of Celeste's hand. "Right now, what matters most is getting your strength back. Everything else can wait—especially Damien and Lucian. At those names, whatever softness had touched Celeste's expression vanished. Annie noticed but continued, "Honestly, if Damien and Lucian hadn't rushed in to defend that woman without even checking the surveillance footage, you probably wouldn't have ended up in prison. "And you wouldn't be in this mess now…" Her voice trailed off as her thoughts were heavy with unspoken regret and sympathy. Celeste, however, didn't respond. She simply smiled again. She had already made peace with the past before stepping out of prison and facing them. Even if the footage had surfaced or proved her innocence, Damien and Lucian would have found a way to dismiss it and pin the blame on someone else. One way or another, she still would've ended up behind bars. After all, she'd already stared death in the face. Dwelling on the past was pointless now. "Celeste..." Annie called her name softly. Celeste snapped out of her thoughts. She was about to reply when her phone rang. It was the police. Apparently, the guardian gargoyles had been found, and she was asked to come in immediately. After hanging up, Celeste threw back the covers and got up. "What's going on? Why the rush?" Annie caught her slender wrist, worried. Celeste quickly slipped on her slippers while her expression had visibly hardened. "The police said the guardian gargoyles were found. I have to go now." "But you're still burning up with fever. You just took your pills. Your body can't handle this." "Don't worry." Celeste gave a reassuring squeeze on the arm. "I can handle it. Annie knew she wouldn't be talked out of it, so she sent her off. … 30 minutes later, Celeste stepped into the police station and immediately spotted the three figures that were all too familiar. At a glance, they looked like a picture-perfect little family. "Ms. Morin, your guardian gargoyles were found outside Ms. Vale's home. They're too large to move, so we need you to confirm the photos." When the police officer handed her the pictures, Celeste frowned. No doubt about it—they were hers. "Yes," she said, "they're mine." "Celeste, I already gave those gargoyles to Lucy. There's no theft here. Don't make a scene. Just explain that to the officers." Damien's low, cutting voice came from behind her. She turned and met his stony gaze. "He's right," Lucian added grimly. "Dad gave them to Lucy. And they were ours to begin with. How can it be stealing?" Celeste didn't respond to Lucian. She looked straight at Damien and said indifferently, "Those guardian gargoyles were mine before we got married. "You had no right to give them away—especially not without asking me." "Fine. Name your price. Let's just say I'm buying them. Will that settle it?" Damien offered an alternative. Celeste frowned slightly. Fresh out of prison, no job, barely any stability—she couldn't deny she needed the money. Damien kept pushing. "Besides, you keep insisting those gargoyles were yours before the marriage. But where's your proof? "What evidence do you have that they belonged to you before we got married?" Lucy stepped in, seemingly trying to smooth things over. "Ms. Morin, Damien has a point. You two were married. Doesn't that make everything shared property? It's hard to separate what came before and after." "Mom," Lucian suddenly said, frowning, "those gargoyles aren't even cute. There's no use even if you get them back. Why do you care so much about them?" Celeste looked at the three of them—so united, so rehearsed—as if they'd practiced ganging up on her. Unbelievable. She let out a cold laugh. "Even if they're worthless, I carved them with my own hands. How do you plan to deny that?" Damien and Lucian both fell silent. Off to the side, Lucy bit her lip in frustration. Her eyes were rimmed with red as she looked at Damien. "Damien, it's all my fault. But those guardian gargoyles were shown on the show. It's not that I don't want to return them… It's just that…" Returning them now would confirm the rumors—she'd be branded a thief. Hearing this, Damien turned back to Celeste coldly. "Enough! They're just statues. Tell me how much you want. I'll pay you on Lucy's behalf." Celeste let out a smile. "You want to pay? Fine. Three million dollars." Her guardian gargoyles were priceless. Three million dollars wasn't even steep. "Three million? Are you kidding?" Lucy's face flushed red with fury. "That's extortion!" Damien sneered. "So that's what this is about. Money." Celeste didn't bother answering. She needed to rebuild her career after prison, and that money would be the key to a new start. "Give me your account number. I'll transfer it now," Damien snapped, barely masking the disgust in his eyes. She was refusing to return to the Wrenford residence out of spite—and now causing another scene. She was as manipulative as always. If it weren't for Alaric, he would've divorced her in a heartbeat. Celeste didn't even blink. She scribbled the bank account number from memory and tossed it to him. … Outside the police station, Celeste was ready to leave when Damien called out behind her. "Wait." She turned back slowly with an aloof gaze. "What now?" Damien looked at her coldly. "Grandpa's been asking about you. And Adrian's flying back soon. There's a family dinner at Wrenford Manor the evening after tomorrow. Be there." He hadn't planned on inviting her at first. After all, a woman with a prison record was nothing but an embarrassment. But the timing was too perfect—Adrian Wrenford's return and her release. If she didn't show up, Alaric would have questioned it. Besides, with Adrian's power and influence, her absence would have left a bad impression. Celeste froze as his words echoed in her mind. Adrian's devilishly handsome face flashed before her like a spark. "Did you hear me?" Damien frowned, and his voice rose with irritation. Jolted from her thoughts, Celeste tensed, then she answered softly. "I heard you." But something gnawed at her. Adrian—why was he coming back now?