Chapter 14 - The Man Who Chose Her Too Late
Arthur Costello had never been afraid of losing money.
He'd lost millions.
He'd survived betrayal.
He'd buried men he loved and forgiven men who hadn't deserved it.
But watching Beatrice walk out of his office felt like losing something he couldn't replace.
He didn't follow her.
Not immediately.
She had earned the right to leave.
Three hours later, Arthur sat alone in his study when Leo entered.
“You should talk to her.”
“She doesn't want to see me.”
“Then apologize.”
“I did.”
“Did you explain?”
Arthur looked at his brother.
“What explanation makes using someone as bait acceptable?”
Leo had no answer.
Arthur leaned back.
“I thought her appearance at the wedding would expose the people involved in the old operation. I arranged security. I believed she'd be safe.”
“But you didn't tell her.”
“No.”
“And you fell in love with her somewhere along the way.”
Arthur went still.
Leo smiled sadly.
“Come on, Arthur. Everyone sees it.”
Arthur looked toward the rain-streaked windows.
“I was in love with her long before the wedding.”
Leo blinked.
“What?”
Arthur gave a humorless laugh.
“The first time she corrected one of my financial reports, she told me my management structure looked like it had been designed by a committee of drunk raccoons.”
Leo laughed despite himself.
“She actually said that?”
“Yes.”
“And you hired her?”
“I gave her more responsibility.”
Arthur's smile disappeared.
“I admired her before I ever had the courage to admit what it meant.”
Meanwhile, Beatrice sat inside her apartment, staring at her father's letter.
She was angry.
Not because Arthur had been imperfect.
Because he'd taken away her choice.
A knock sounded.
She opened the door.
A gray-haired man stood in the hallway.
He was thinner than she remembered.
Older.
His eyes were filled with tears.
“Bea?”
Her world stopped.
“Dad?”
Daniel Gallagher nodded.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Beatrice threw herself into his arms.
Eighteen years of grief collapsed between them.
She cried against his shoulder.
He held her tightly.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I'm so sorry.”
When she could finally speak, she pulled back.
“Why didn't you come home?”
Daniel's face crumpled.
“I was told that if I contacted you, you and Tommy would be killed.”
“Who told you?”
“Robert.”
Beatrice closed her eyes.
“I tried to send letters,” Daniel continued. “I tried to make contact after your mother died. Every attempt was intercepted.”
He reached into his coat.
“I have something for you.”
He handed her a small velvet box.
Inside was her mother's wedding ring.
Beatrice began crying again.
“Dad…”
“She wanted you to have it.”
They sat together for hours.
He explained the investigation.
The hidden payments.
The forged documents.
The way Robert and Isabella had manipulated everyone around them.
Eventually, Beatrice asked the question she'd been avoiding.
“What about Arthur?”
Daniel looked at her.
“He made terrible choices.”
“I know.”
“But he also saved Tommy before anyone asked him to.”
Beatrice lowered her eyes.
Daniel continued.
“He gave investigators access to his own company's records. He accepted responsibility for what he knew. And he helped me come home.”
“Why?”
Daniel smiled gently.
“Because he loves you.”
Beatrice's breath caught.
Before she could respond, her phone rang.
Arthur.
She stared at the screen.
Then answered.
“Arthur?”
His voice was strained.
“Beatrice, I'm sorry to call.”
Something inside her tightened.
“What happened?”
“Robert is in federal custody. Isabella has been found alive. They're cooperating.”
“That's good.”
“Yes.”
A long silence.
Then Arthur spoke again.
“But there's something else.”
“Tell me.”
“I've resigned as chairman of Carmichael Logistics. An independent board will oversee the company and cooperate with investigators.”
Beatrice sat upright.
“Arthur—”
“I'm stepping away from everything connected to the old operation.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because I wanted you to hear it from me.”
His voice softened.
“And because I'm leaving Chicago tomorrow.”
Beatrice stood.
“Leaving?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“I don't know.”
Her heart began pounding.
“Arthur, don't—”
He interrupted gently.
“You deserve someone who doesn't make decisions about your life without asking you.”
A pause.
“I hope someday you'll forgive me.”
The call ended.
Beatrice stood in the middle of her apartment.
Her father watched quietly.
“Well?” Daniel asked.
She looked at him.
“Arthur's leaving.”
Daniel tilted his head.
“And what are you going to do about it?”
Beatrice looked down at her mother's ring.
May you like
Then she grabbed her coat.
For the first time in her life, she wasn't going to wait for someone else to decide how her story ended.
