Chapter 18
The Live Feed
Grant chose a museum after closing.
That was vanity. Elena knew it the moment she walked into the empty sculpture hall and saw him waiting beneath a marble angel with one broken wing.
"Dramatic," she said.
"Memorable."
"Where is Noah?"
Grant smiled. "Still direct. I understand why Adrian got inconvenient."
Elena's phone was recording in her coat pocket. Mara had sewn the transmitter into the lining in six furious minutes. Adrian had said nothing while she left. That silence had followed her into the car.
"Celeste planned the explosion," Elena said.
Grant's smile thinned. "Celeste planned leverage. The explosion was supposed to frighten him, not put him in a coma."
"You expect me to believe that helps?"
"I expect you to understand scale. Adrian was digging into your father. Celeste needed him slowed. You were already the perfect spouse on paper. Then the blast got messy."
Elena kept her face still.
"And the photo before the ceremony?"
"Insurance."
"The person dressed as me."
"Insurance."
"Noah?"
Grant sighed. "Leverage. You see the pattern."
She did. That was why she hated him.
"You want my vote."
"I want you to stop being sentimental about a man who investigated your family before he knew your name."
"He told me."
For the first time, Grant's expression broke.
Small. Enough.
Elena touched the ring in her pocket.
Grant recovered and took out his phone. "Then let me be direct."
The screen showed Noah tied to a chair in what looked like a maintenance room. Alive. Angry. Terrified.
Elena's body wanted to move toward the image.
She did not.
Grant leaned close enough for the recorder to catch every word.
"Vote with me tomorrow," he said, "or your brother disappears more permanently."