Chapter 4 - The Mask Slips“That is quite enough,” Celeste said, her voice dropping all its sugary sweetness, hardening into something sharp and cold that she had never used in Grant’s presence before. She stepped between Maya and the bedside table, scooping the glass up with sudden, jerky movements. “This is entirely inappropriate. Elena, I think it’s time you and your child left. Grant’s medical environment needs to remain sterile and free from hysterical childish accusations.”
Elena’s eyes flashed with immediate defensive anger. She stepped protectively in front of Maya, crossing her arms over her chest. “Hey! Watch your tone. She’s a six-year-old child expressing an observation. Why are you acting so defensive over a glass of orange juice?”
“I am not defensive,” Celeste snapped back, her mask slipping further to reveal the calculating, impatient woman hiding underneath. “I am protecting Grant’s health from ignorant interference. You walk in here after months of absence and start second-guessing the medical care I sacrifice my entire life to provide? Do you have any idea how much work it takes to keep this estate running while he is completely helpless?”
Grant sat frozen in his wheelchair. The words completely helpless echoed loudly in his ears, stripping away months of carefully constructed gaslighting.
He looked at Celeste—really looked at her—without the filter of gratitude and isolation she had wrapped him in. He saw the cold calculation in her eyes, the way she managed every visitor, every phone call, every medical report, and every drop of liquid that passed his lips. She hadn't just been caring for him; she had been curating his decline.
“Celeste,” Grant said. His voice was quiet, but it carried an unexpected, razor-sharp authority that made her stop mid-sentence.
She turned back to look at him, her expression shifting rapidly back toward forced concern. “Grant, darling, don’t listen to them. They’re just trying to upset you, to ruin our peace—”
“Put the glass down,” Grant interrupted, his eyes locking onto hers with a piercing intensity that he hadn't felt in over a year. The fog in his brain seemed to part, burned away by a sudden, white-hot surge of adrenaline and fury.
“Grant, don’t be ridiculous, it’s just breakfast—”
“I said, put the glass down on the table,” Grant repeated, and this time, his voice didn't waver. He gripped the armrests of his wheelchair, his knuckles turning white as he forced every ounce of remaining strength into his upper body.
Celeste hesitated, her eyes darting toward the door as if calculating her chances of escape. Realizing that Elena was blocking the exit and Grant was watching her with a terrifyingly lucid gaze, she slowly set the glass back down on the mahogany surface, the ice cubes clinking softly against the rim.
“You’re making a huge mistake,” Celeste whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “After everything I’ve given up for you... after every sacrifice—”
“Elena,” Grant said without breaking eye contact with the woman standing across the room. “Take Maya out to the car. Lock the doors.”
May you like
“Grant, I’m not leaving you alone with her—” Elena started, eyeing Celeste with naked hostility.
“Go to the car, Elena,” Grant commanded, his voice carrying the commanding weight of the man who used to run multi-million-dollar developments before his life was hijacked. “Call Detective Miller at the Lake Oswego police department. Tell him to come to the estate immediately. Tell him we have an active poisoning investigation.”
Related Stories
