Chapter 7 - The Final Dinner
The dining room was illuminated solely by the flickering light of antique silver candelabras.
I sat at the head of the massive oak table, deliberately wearing a loose-fitting sweater to look frail and defeated.
Victoria sat to my right, wearing a stunning, backless black silk dress.
She looked like a gorgeous, lethal widow.
Marcus sat to my left, a thick leather briefcase resting casually at his feet.
The tension in the air was so thick it felt like trying to breathe underwater.
The boys were safely locked in the west wing with a trusted, heavily vetted bodyguard I had brought in secretly.
"This is a difficult night for all of us," Marcus began, his voice dripping with fake sorrow as he pulled the stack of legal documents from his briefcase.
"But you are making the right choice, Arthur."
"Victoria will be fully protected."
He slid the papers across the polished wood, along with a heavy gold Montblanc pen.
I stared at the documents.
They were a complete surrender of everything I had built, neatly packaged in legal jargon.
"Before I sign," I rasped weakly, my hand shaking violently over the paper.
"I think we should have a toast."
Victoria smiled warmly, standing up from her chair.
"Of course, my love," she cooed.
"I made your special reserve espresso, just the way you like it."
She walked over to the ornate sideboard and poured the dark liquid into three porcelain cups.
I watched her back carefully.
Even from a distance, I saw her left hand slip smoothly over my designated cup.
She was dropping the final, lethal dose.
She wanted me to sign the papers and die right here at the table.
She brought the tray over, setting the poisoned cup directly in front of me.
"To family," Marcus said, raising his cup with a charming, reptilian smile.
"To family," Victoria echoed, her eyes gleaming with dark triumph.
I picked up the cup.
The heat radiated through the porcelain against my palms.
They both watched me with bated breath, waiting for the poison to touch my lips.
Instead, I slowly lowered the cup back onto the saucer.
I sat up perfectly straight.
The trembling in my hands vanished instantly.
The forced weakness in my posture evaporated.
I looked back and forth between the two of them, my expression hardening into cold, unforgiving stone.
"You know, Marcus," I said, my voice echoing powerfully through the silent room.
"I always wondered why my grandfather's vintage watches suddenly vanished."
The charming smile on Marcus’s face froze completely.
May you like
Victoria’s perfectly manicured hand paused in mid-air.
The trap was officially sprung.
