Chapter 11
Tristan cooperated.
Not immediately.
For almost two hours he sat in silence with his attorney.
Then he asked one question.
“If I tell them everything, what happens to Selene?”
Lucius looked at him.
“That cannot be the reason you decide.”
Tristan’s jaw tightened.
“She’s my sister.”
“And Willa is my daughter.”
Tristan looked down.
Lucius continued.
“She is also Selene’s daughter.”
That was harder.
Tristan finally agreed to a formal interview.
He admitted taking temporary authority.
Admitted signing the warehouse-sale documents without understanding the historical liability.
Admitted helping Selene control communication after Lucius disappeared.
Admitted taking the crest pin from her and wearing it because she told him the family needed visible continuity.
Then came Willa.
The investigator asked why he pushed her outside.
Tristan’s face changed.
There was no corporate explanation available.
No paperwork to blame.
“She kept saying Lucius was coming home.”
“So?”
“Selene was already falling apart. Guests were asking questions. Willa wouldn’t stop.”
“You punished a three-year-old for grieving?”
Tristan stared at the table.
“Yes.”
The investigator waited.
Tristan eventually added:
“I wanted her quiet.”
That statement mattered to Lucius more than any warehouse document.
Not because it was worse legally.
Because it was simpler.
Adults had made enormous, complicated excuses for months.
Protect the company.
Protect the family.
Prevent panic.
Maintain stability.
May you like
But when everything was stripped away, Tristan had thrown a child into winter because her pain was inconvenient.
No motive improved that.
