Chapter 3 - The Mercer Trust
Adrian Mercer had never lived like a man worth forty-two million dollars.
He drove an old Land Cruiser.
He cooked his own breakfast.
He hated country clubs.
And when Maren first met him at a charity beach cleanup, he introduced himself as “Adrian,” not “Adrian Mercer.”
Maren learned about the money three dates later.
She almost walked away.
Adrian laughed.
“That’s usually the opposite problem.”
“I don’t want a family deciding whether I’m good enough for their last name.”
“Neither do I.”
That had been Adrian.
Warm.
Stubborn.
Quietly rebellious.
Which was why his will shocked everyone.
He left Maren their home and personal assets.
But his share of Mercer Coastal Holdings—worth more than eighteen million dollars—went into a trust for Elodie.
Until Elodie turned twenty-five, the trust would be administered by her surviving parent.
Maren.
There was only one exception.
If Maren died, became incapacitated, or legally surrendered parental authority, the successor guardian would control distributions made for Elodie’s benefit.
That successor guardian was Celestine.
Claire put the trust agreement on her desk.
“This is motive.”
Maren stared at the page.
“But she can’t just take Elodie’s money.”
“No. Not directly.”
Claire tapped another section.
“But the guardian can approve education, housing, security, transportation, staff, property maintenance and other expenditures deemed beneficial to Elodie.”
Maren’s stomach tightened.
“The estate.”
Claire nodded.
“If Celestine argues that maintaining Mercer House is necessary for Elodie, parts of those costs can be billed to the trust.”
Maren remembered the renovations.
A new pool house.
A remodeled west wing.
Private landscaping.
A Mercedes SUV Celestine claimed was “for transporting Elodie.”
Then there was Victor Hale.
Celestine’s fiancé.
The same financial adviser who claimed he witnessed Maren surrender custody.
“Can we see the trust statements?”
“We’ve requested them.”
“And?”
“Victor says you don’t have standing because you’re no longer Elodie’s legal guardian.”
The trap was elegant.
The forged custody document gave Celestine access.
The access prevented Maren from examining what Celestine did with the money.
And the financial adviser overseeing the money was about to marry her.
Maren looked at Claire.
“How much?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Maren leaned back.
For months, she had been fighting emotionally.
Trying to prove she loved her daughter.
Trying to convince people she wasn’t unstable.
Celestine had encouraged that fight because it kept everyone looking in the wrong direction.
Maren suddenly understood what Adrian would have done.
He would have followed the money.
So she did.
She stopped arguing publicly.
She stopped reacting to Celestine’s insults.
She attended every supervised visit.
Passed every drug test.
Documented every conversation.
And quietly began reconstructing the trust’s financial history.
Three weeks later, they found their first crack.
A contractor had billed Elodie’s trust $186,000 for “child-safety improvements.”
Claire called him.
“What improvements?”
The contractor sounded confused.
“I remodeled the primary bathroom and wine room.”
Maren went silent.
“Did you build anything for a child?”
“No.”
The invoice had been altered after submission.
Then they found another.
$74,000 for “security transportation.”
The actual purchase?
Victor’s black Range Rover.
Then $38,000 for “educational consulting.”
Paid to a corporation registered only six months earlier.
Its mailing address belonged to Victor Hale.
Claire looked up from her laptop.
“We have misuse.”
“Is it enough?”
“To demand an accounting? Yes.”
“To get Elodie back?”
“Not yet.”
Maren hated those two words.
Not yet.
They had become the soundtrack of her life.
But filing for an accounting triggered something unexpected.
Victor called Maren personally.
She almost didn’t answer.
“Maren,” he said, “this is becoming unnecessarily ugly.”
“You mean expensive.”
A pause.
Then he chuckled.
“You always were sharper than Celestine gave you credit for.”
“What do you want?”
“Stop digging.”
Maren’s pulse quickened.
“Why?”
“Because Adrian is dead. Nothing you uncover changes that.”
Maren went completely still.
She hadn’t mentioned Adrian.
She hadn’t asked about his death.
They were discussing trust expenses.
“Why did you say Adrian?”
Silence.
Then Victor hung up.
Maren stared at the phone.
Thirty seconds later, a text appeared.
FORGET I CALLED.
She didn’t.
She screenshotted it.
Backed it up.
Sent it to Claire.
And that night, for the first time since her husband’s funeral, Maren pulled out Adrian’s death file.
His death had been ruled an accidental drowning.
But one photograph suddenly bothered her.
A photograph of Adrian’s sailboat after the Coast Guard recovered it.
The emergency radio was missing.
Adrian never sailed without it.
Maren knew because she had bought it for him.
And there was only one other person who knew exactly where he kept it.
May you like
Celestine.
👉 The money explained why Celestine wanted Elodie—but Victor’s mistake raised a darker question: had the plan begun before Adrian ever died?
