CHAPTER 17: THE DINNER CONVERSATION
844 Words
Noel returned to the manor, the salt air clinging to his clothes a defiant contrast to the sterile perfume of the mansion. He was exhausted, but the emotional cost of his trip was masked by an intense, cold calculation. He needed to test the waters. He needed to know if Henry was merely arrogant or actively suspicious.
He arranged a quiet dinner for three in the small, formal dining room—himself, Henry, and Victoria Hayes. The presence of Victoria was essential; she was the constant, stabilizing element Henry relied on, and her participation would keep Henry's focus on the present business and off Noel’s mind.
The dinner was, as always, a performance. The food was exquisite, the conversation entirely focused on the intricate mechanics of Anderson Global’s recent maneuvers.
Noel waited until the main course was served, then, with surgical precision, he initiated the probe.
“The board is asking about stabilizing our long-term public image, Father,” Noel began, picking meticulously at his duck confit. “The recent merger has been a huge win, but there’s always underlying instability to manage. The perception of our family unit is key.”
Henry nodded, instantly engaged. “Agreed. Which is precisely why your association with Victoria is so vital. Stability, son. It projects strength.”
Noel glanced at Victoria, who offered him a practiced, professional smile. “I am merely providing consistent counsel, Noel.”
“Of course. But I’m talking about legacy instability,” Noel continued, his voice low and contemplative. “We never properly managed the PR fallout from my divorce. It was too sudden. Three years later, and I still get questions about what exactly drove Ariel to make that decision.”
The name Ariel dropped into the conversation like a stone into a still, deep pond. Victoria’s posture shifted imperceptibly—a subtle tightening of the shoulders. Henry, however, showed a flicker of annoyance rather than suspicion.
“It was handled, Noel,” Henry stated sharply, his tone indicating the subject was closed. “We confirmed her instability, the separation was legal, and the media was neutralized. You were grieving the loss of your child. What more is there to discuss?”
Noel feigned an almost nostalgic regret. “Perhaps just the clarity of her motive. That final note… saying she was too weak for our world. It always bothered me. It made us look like oppressors, forcing her out of her own free will. Should we have emphasized the psychological strain more, perhaps, to preempt any future claims?”
Noel watched Henry’s face closely. This was the critical moment. Henry’s eyes narrowed, not with recognition, but with deep discomfort. He hated revisiting his perfectly closed lie.
“Noel, listen to me. She was weak. She proved it with her reckless accident and the pathetic letter. Trying to excavate that unpleasantness now is pointless and dangerous,” Henry hissed, lowering his voice. “You are the future. She is the past. Do not give the press a reason to dig back up the details of her life—details we managed to contain three years ago.”
The word managed was delivered with such cold emphasis that it confirmed everything for Noel. Henry wasn’t paranoid about Ariel’s current whereabouts; he was intensely paranoid about the details of the past being exposed—the details that revealed his control over the accident and the medical records.
Henry’s unease confirmed he had no idea Noel had seen the twins. He was simply protecting his flawless record of deception.
Noel pulled back immediately, appearing to accept the rebuke. “You’re right, Father. Sentimental weakness, I suppose. It won’t happen again. The focus is on the future.”
He saw Victoria relax slightly, accepting his retreat as a sign that the conversation was just a brief dip into melancholy. But her suspicion remained. She was watching Noel too closely, noting the cold determination in his eyes that had nothing to do with the tax reports.
The dinner ended, and Noel retreated to his office, the night's performance having successfully reinforced two facts:
Safety: Henry is unaware of the coast, Ariel, or the twins. He is focused entirely on maintaining the fiction of her breakdown.
Danger: Henry’s nervousness confirms his guilt. Any attempt by Noel to investigate Operation Lighthouse or the accident will be interpreted by Henry as a threat to his core security.
Noel realized that the time for subtle probing was over. He had to assume Henry was constantly monitoring his corporate communications. He needed irrefutable proof of the criminal enterprise before he made his next move.
He sent a brief, encrypted update to Finch: Focus shifts. Immediate priority: Locate the master file for Operation Lighthouse. Assume terminal is monitored.
The war was now fully engaged, and Noel was operating deep behind enemy lines.
Noel has confirmed Henry's blindness but also his paranoia, fueling the need for absolute secrecy.
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