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‘Which might have been the case five years ago, but six months ago, François Paquet licensed the patent for his missile technology under IEPRA guidelines and as such they became a matter of public record.’
All Célia could hear was the roar of her own pulse. She felt as if her chest were about to explode.
‘So. Do you deny that you developed technical specifications for a drone missile system that has been sold by Paquet Industries—an international defence contractor—and used to take the lives of nearly four thousand people across the globe?’
Noise filled the room. Objections and cries of shock from Loukis’s legal team, the judge’s gavel pounding on the wood behind her in time with the raging of her own heart, and above all Meredith’s shrill voice, proclaiming she would not allow a murderer to care for her daughter.
Célia’s field of vision narrowed to her hands, shaking and suddenly frigidly cold. Her breaths were coming in short sharp pants and nausea gripped her stomach in a fierce hold.
She vaguely found herself pulled from the chair, Loukis’s concerned face hazy, snatching glances at people who were staring at her, imagining their faces twisted in horror, as she was led from the room and back to the small office where they had started this day.
* * *
Murderer.
What the hell was going on? Loukis fisted his hands, wanting to lash out at something. Anything. Célia was hunched over in the chair he had poured her into. His legal team filled the room looking as concerned as he was. But in all likelihood their concern was focused on the custody case now completely hijacked from the last source he had ever expected it to come from.
But his mind fractured. He had seen Célia begin to tremble, still sitting by the judge. The way her skin had paled and he’d known. Known something awful was about to happen and he’d not been able to do a damn thing to stop it.
Snippets of conversations filtered through his mind.
‘It was taken from me...’
‘Very good at “the computer science thing”...’
‘Used in a very different way from what I had intended...’
‘I will not allow a murderer to care for my daughter...’
Someone was telling Célia to breathe and a distant part of him recognised that it should have been him. Him making sure she was okay.
But he was held in a vortex of shock and fear. They should have known something was wrong when Meredith’s legal team didn’t go after him for all the things they had suspected they would. They didn’t need to. Because they had Célia. His mother had used Célia to bring him to his knees.
At that precise moment, Célia finally looked up at him. Her eyes glistening with unshed tears, her breath finally coming back to some semblance of normality.
‘Leave us,’ he demanded of the lawyers. As if sensing the storm brewing, they filed out of the room leaving Célia and Loukis alone.
‘Loukis—’
‘Explain what just happened to me.’
‘I...’
‘I can’t do this for you, Célia. I have no idea what just happened. So just...tell me.’
‘My father took the technical specifications from me and used them to bolster the designs for Paquet’s combat drone. One that has since been sold around the world as one of the top ten UAVs available—’
‘UAV?’ he interrupted.
‘Unmanned Aerial Vehicle.’
‘So they were right?’
‘Loukis, I didn’t do it,’ she pleaded. ‘My designs were never intended for combat or the defence industry. I had no idea—’
‘But they are right.’
‘Yes.’
