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Célia shrugged. ‘I was at university in Paris.’
‘And what did you study there?’
‘A degree in Humanities and—’
‘But you started out with a different degree, no?’
Célia frowned, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. She cast a glance towards Meredith, to see a vindictive edge to her gaze. Sheknew. She turned to Loukis, wanting him to make it stop, needing him to. Because if he didn’t, Loukis would lose everything and it would be her fault. A cold sweat broke out across her shoulder blades, sending shivers along her skin.
‘Ms d’Argent? Please answer the question.’
‘I... My university education began with a degree in mathematics and computer sciences.’
‘And it was that which led you to an internship with Paquet Industries.’
Although Célia was looking at the lawyer, she saw Loukis lean to the man next to him, a frown marking his features, and confusion emanating from their table.
I’m so sorry, Loukis.
Fear and rage welled within her, for him, for herself. She knew she should have told him. Told him the true extent of what her father had done with her plans. But she’d thought those records were sealed. That no one would ever find out.
‘Yes,’ she said meekly.
‘And while you were there, you had worked on technical specifications for a missile guidance system.’
‘No.’
The lawyer’s eyes blazed with the same intensity as Meredith’s had, as if sensing victory.
‘Need I remind you that even though this is a custody hearing, anything you say must be the truth, or it will be seen as perjury?’
‘You do not. The specifications I was working on were for drone guidance systems for agricultural use in developing countries,’ she said shakily.
‘There is no record of that.’
‘Those records are sealed.’
‘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 amurdererto 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...’
