He looked at her.
For the first time since meeting him, she could see how deeply disappointed he was.
And that was worse than anger.
Célestine was suspended pending the investigation.
Maison Vesper’s policy was clear.
The position had been reserved for eligible caregivers.
Her application contained false information.
She could not simply be transferred into another role without a proper process.
Célestine accepted the findings.
She repaid the relocation allowance she had received under the pilot program through an agreed instalment plan.
Then she resigned before the end of her probationary review.
Alaric did not intervene.
It hurt her that he didn’t.
Later, she understood that it would have been wrong if he had.
For several weeks, she returned to helping her mother in Rouen.
Odette was walking again with a cane.
She noticed her daughter’s silence.
One afternoon, while they folded laundry, she asked, “Did you love the job?”
Célestine considered.
“Yes.”
“Then find another one.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Most things aren’t.”
Odette placed a folded towel in the basket.
“What happened?”
Célestine told her.
Everything.
The application.
Léonie.
Bastien.
Alaric.
The lie.
When she finished, Odette was quiet.
Then she said, “You should have told me you were struggling.”
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
“I’m your mother. Worrying is part of the arrangement.”
Célestine laughed despite herself.
Odette took her hand.
“You did something foolish because you were frightened. That doesn’t mean you’re foolish. But you must take responsibility for it.”
“I know.”
“And the man?”
Célestine looked away.
“What man?”
Odette smiled.
“The one you’ve been avoiding mentioning for ten minutes.”
Célestine sighed.
“He’s very difficult.”
“That sounds promising.”
“Maman.”
“Does he make you happy?”
Célestine considered the question.
Then whispered, “He did.”
Back in Paris, Alaric found himself increasingly troubled by the circumstances surrounding the family division.
Célestine’s deception had been real.
But so were the problems she’d identified.
The department’s selection policy excluded experienced childcare professionals who weren’t parents, even when their qualifications were excellent.
Its budget was being manipulated.
And senior management had been approving contracts with outside suppliers at suspiciously inflated prices.
The more Alaric investigated, the more uncomfortable the situation became.
At the centre of the irregularities was Matthias von Eltz, his cousin and the company’s financial director.
Matthias was charming, sociable, and extremely popular among executives who valued expensive dinners more than financial transparency.
He also deeply resented Alaric’s likely succession.
When Alaric requested the original procurement records, Matthias smiled.
“You’re taking an unusual interest in children’s furniture.”
“I’m interested in the invoices.”
“Of course.”
“Then you’ll have no objection to providing them.”
Matthias’s smile thinned.
“Not at all.”
The records arrived incomplete.
Two weeks later, anonymous accusations appeared in an internal report alleging that Célestine had shared confidential hospitality research with a competing hotel group.
The allegation seemed plausible to employees who already knew she’d lied about her family.
Alaric read the report carefully.
Then read it again.
Something was wrong.
The confidential file cited as evidence had been accessed on a date when Célestine no longer had system permissions.
He asked for the access logs.
Matthias’s office refused.
Alaric went directly to the independent audit committee.
For the first time, the fight was no longer about Célestine alone.
It was about who controlled Maison Vesper, and how far that person was prepared to go to keep it.
Célestine knew nothing about the investigation when a registered letter arrived at her apartment.
It informed her that she was being accused of improperly retaining company research.
She sat at her kitchen table, reading the letter.
Then she called Alaric.
He answered on the second ring.
