Thorns Grow After Betrayal (Celeste and Chester) novel Chapter 118

The "out of control" black car, sensing trouble, suddenly righted itself, spun around, and sped off into the night.

Gideon didn't bother to give chase. He calmly pulled out his phone and dialed. "North Second Avenue, eastbound. License plate six-five-six-six-one."

It took Celestine a long moment to process what had just happened.

So… was that an attempted murder?

It wasn't the first time she'd been through something like this. Back when she first married Chester, she'd experienced something eerily similar.

They were newlyweds then, still living in Portside City. On a whim, she decided to pick Chester up from work one evening. The family only had one car—Chester's Bentley, which he drove every day.

But as she neared the office, disaster struck.

The accident was bad. She spent three months in the hospital recovering.

Chester only visited her once—the day after the crash.

"Focus on getting better. From now on, just stay home and play the good Mrs. Fordham. You should really get out less."

"If you didn't do such foolish things, none of this would have happened."

At the time, Celestine had no idea what had really caused the accident. Chester's words sent her spiraling into guilt, convinced she'd done nothing but make trouble for him once again.

It wasn't until much later that she learned, quite by accident, that the crash had actually been a failed assassination attempt on Chester. She'd just happened to be driving his car that day.

Just as Chester, by coincidence, had been on his way to the airport to pick up Joanna, who was flying in to Portside City—meaning he'd missed both the accident and the immediate aftermath.

Memories she thought she'd buried cracked open, leaving her stunned and lost in thought.

Gideon helped her sit up, checking her over for injuries. She seemed unhurt, but he frowned, noticing her faraway look.

"What's wrong? Did I scare you that badly?"

Celestine snapped back to the present. "No… no, I'm fine."

The car sat parked beneath a streetlamp, the dashboard quietly ticking in the silence.

Her long lashes fluttered in uncertainty, and she found herself meeting Gideon's eyes—dark, deep, and impossibly hard to read.

He arched a brow, clearly unconvinced.

Celestine quickly changed the subject. "That driver… were they after you?"

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