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“Right.” Livia rolled her eyes. “And I suppose you also hoped that getting me away from the Willows would mean I’d also be cut out of the will?”
His dark flush revealed the truth. He’d fully intended to take her share of the money. “I needed every penny just to keep a roof over our heads.”
“You mean a roof over your head, not mine,” she reminded him. “Along with a closet full of designer clothes for your wife and daughter.”
He shrugged. “The Benoits have an image to maintain.”
“Here’s a hint: We don’t live in the Dark Ages anymore. No one cares about the Benoits or how they dress.”
“You might not, but other people do,” Adrian stubbornly insisted.
“Other snobs like you.”
“Don’t act so innocent.” Adrian abruptly went on the offensive. “You were eager enough to come every year and take a handout from the family.”
Livia smiled, ridiculously pleased to know that her visits to the Willows year after year had been a constant source of annoyance to this man.
“The money belongs to me.” Her smile widened. “And I certainly wasn’t going to let you have it.”
“I always suspected you were going to be a pain in the ass. One of many aggravations I’ve had to deal with over the years.”
He sounded harassed, reminding Livia that the secret they’d been trying to hide hadn’t been entirely secret.
“Was Stella Gates one of those problems?”
Genuine hatred tightened his features at the mention of Livia’s former nanny.
“The greedy bitch,” he hissed. “I’m glad she’s dead.”
Livia no longer had to wonder how Stella Gates managed to squeeze so much money from the Benoits. She shared a suite with Giselle. How could she not have known what was happening?
“I assume she witnessed my mother being pushed off the balcony?”
Adrian’s lips twisted, looking like he’d swallowed a lemon. “She claimed to have been there when it happened, but that wouldn’t have bothered me. She was just a nanny. I could have convinced everyone she was lying to try and make an easy buck off my sister’s tragic death.”
The sheer arrogance stole her breath. Adrian pretended to be a better man than his ruthless father, but at heart he was still a conceited narcissist who was willing to use his power as a Benoit to destroy others. With an effort, Livia shook off her disgust.
“So how was she blackmailing you?”
“She had Giselle’s diary. It revealed everything about our family. Every dirty secret written in my sister’s hand. It would have destroyed us.”
“A diary, of course.” Livia released a harsh sigh as she recalled the note that she’d found hidden in her mother’s scrapbook. She’d noticed the date stamped at the top of the paper. It was obvious that it had been torn out of a diary or daily calendar. Her mother’s personal journal. That’s what everyone had been looking for all along. “God, I’ve been so stupid.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She concentrated on scooting back. How much farther to the doors? “That’s why you hired Larry Sutton, isn’t it? To find the diary?”
“I searched Stella’s house and couldn’t find the stupid thing,” Adrian admitted. “I even loaded up her stuff and had it brought here. There was nothing. At last I got desperate enough to hire a private investigator to look for it.”
Yet another mystery explained, she wryly acknowledged, but there was still one more. The mystery that had started everything.
“So how did I get involved in any of this?”
“While he was investigating, Sutton talked to one of the home health nurses who was taking care of Stella during her last months. She told him that Stella had given her a large envelope and asked her to mail it. The nurse hadn’t paid much attention, but she did recall that the address was in New Orleans and she thought the last name was Benoit.” Adrian shrugged. “I assumed she must have sent you the diary.”
“To me?” Livia asked. “Why? I don’t even remember her.”
“Because it belonged to your mother. Once she’d used it to bleed me dry it was useless to her. My guess was that she wanted to make sure it ended up in your hands since it probably had a lot of stuff in there about Giselle’s early days as a mother.”
