Chapter 3
The list was longer than it should have been.
Socks.
Two cardigans.
A winter coat.
Children’s medicine once.
Hair clips.
Lunch snacks.
Nothing luxurious.
Ordinary things.
Things a wealthy father assumes appear because the household works.
I had signed enormous household budgets every month.
Lily had still needed a maid to buy socks.
“Where did the money go?”
Elena shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
I looked toward the ballroom doors.
I did.
Or at least I knew where to start.
Celeste managed family household operations.
Not because she needed work.
Because she enjoyed control.
My late wife, Sofia, handled the role before she died eighteen months earlier.
Afterward, Celeste stepped in “temporarily.”
Temporary had become permanent because grief made delegation easy.
Another mistake.
I asked Elena:
“When did this start?”
“About nine months ago.”
“What changed?”
She thought.
“Celeste began approving everything personally.”
“Before?”
“Department heads handled ordinary purchases.”
So Celeste centralized the household.
Then created a secret spending limit around Lily.
“Why?”
Elena glanced at Lily.
I understood.
“Tell me later.”
Lily frowned.
“I can hear.”
I almost smiled.
Three years old.
Already offended by exclusion.
“I know.”
Then she leaned against Elena.
“Celeste says expensive things make me spoiled.”
There it was.
“What expensive things?”
Lily counted on her fingers.
“Shoes. Cake. New blanket. Purple coat.”
Normal childhood things.
“What happens if you ask?”
“She says Daddy works too hard for money.”
I closed my eyes.
Celeste used my name differently with everyone.
To staff: Damian approved limits.
To Lily: Daddy is burdened by your needs.
Efficient.
Cruel.
I looked at Elena.
“Did Lily ever ask you not to tell me?”
Elena’s expression changed.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Lily answered herself.
“Because Daddy gets sad when Lily costs money.”
My chest tightened so sharply I had to stand.
I had never once said anything close to that.
But a three-year-old believed her existence had a price attached.
The forty-five-dollar shoes were not only shoes.
May you like
They were evidence.
Evidence that somebody had been teaching my daughter she was expensive to love.
