THE FIANCÉE’S POISONED VOW

“Stop!” I shouted, lunging forward.

But Victoria didn’t drink the poison. She didn’t intend to kill herself.

With a swift, practiced motion, she threw the contents of the vial directly into my face.

I threw my arms up instinctively, turning my head. The liquid splashed against the sleeve of my dress shirt and grazed my cheek. It burned instantly—a sharp, chemical fire that made my skin blister.

I stumbled backward, wiping my face frantically with my dry sleeve.

Victoria didn't wait to see if the toxin took hold. She dropped the empty silver locket, diving into the back of the idling town car. She slammed the door shut, and the driver immediately floored the accelerator.

The car’s tires screeched against the concrete, peeling out of the parking structure and disappearing into the night.

I stood there, panting, the side of my face throbbing with a dull, vicious ache. I had only taken a glancing blow. Allison had ingested an entire glass. The sheer cruelty of the woman I had almost married sent a fresh wave of adrenaline through my system.

I looked down at the concrete floor. The silver necklace lay there, abandoned.

I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket, carefully picked up the necklace, and wrapped it tight. It was evidence.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Michael.

“Julian,” Michael said, his voice frantic the moment I answered. “The board of directors. They’re convening an emergency session at the main corporate office right now.”

I checked my watch. It was 3:00 a.m. Board members didn’t convene in the middle of the night unless a catastrophic event had occurred.

“Who called the meeting?” I asked, walking quickly back toward the elevators.

“Richard Hayes,” Michael replied. “The Chairman. He sent out a blast email claiming there has been a massive security breach regarding the family trust. Julian… Victoria isn’t fleeing to Montreal. She sent Richard the forged documents. She’s using the board to legitimize her control before the banks open in the morning.”

The absolute audacity of her plan hit me. The train ticket to Montreal wasn’t her escape plan. It was a decoy. She had left it in the lockbox specifically for Michael to find, knowing he would tell me, sending me chasing a ghost while she walked right into the heart of my company.

“Where are you?” I asked Michael.

“I’m at the corporate office,” he said. “I’m trying to stall them, but Richard is demanding a vote. He’s backing Victoria.”

“Keep them in that room,” I commanded. “I’m on my way.”

I hung up, rushing out of the hospital. I hailed a late-night taxi, offering the driver a hundred-dollar bill to break every speed limit between the hospital and the Ricci Tower downtown.

During the ride, I sat in the back, the pain in my cheek a grounding reminder of the stakes. Victoria had weaponized my family’s secrets, manipulated my brother, poisoned an innocent woman, and terrified a child. Now, she was trying to steal my father’s legacy from the inside out.

The taxi slammed to a halt outside the towering glass facade of Ricci Enterprises. I tossed the driver the money and sprinted through the revolving doors.

The night security guards recognized me immediately, stepping aside as I strode to the private executive elevators.

I reached the top floor—the boardroom.

The heavy mahogany double doors were closed, but I could hear the heated voices bleeding through the wood.

I didn't knock. I pushed the doors open with both hands, stepping into the brilliantly lit room.

The twelve members of the board of directors were seated around the massive table. At the head of the table sat Richard Hayes, looking severe.

And standing right beside him, looking perfectly composed despite the events in the parking garage just twenty minutes ago, was Victoria. She had taken off the velvet coat, smoothing out her burgundy silk dress, playing the victim perfectly.

The entire room went dead silent as I walked in.

“Julian,” Richard said, standing up. “You look terrible. We were told you were indisposed.”

“I’m perfectly fine, Richard,” I said, walking slowly toward the head of the table. I looked directly at Victoria. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the angry red burn mark on my cheek, realizing her poison hadn’t taken me down.

“Mr. Ricci,” Victoria said, adopting a tone of wounded formality. She addressed the board, not me. “As I was just explaining to the directors, Julian’s mental state has been deteriorating. Tonight, he assaulted his own operations manager and engaged in erratic, violent behavior.”

“She’s lying,” Michael spoke up from the far end of the table, his voice shaking but resolute. “She’s extorting the family.”

Richard slammed his hand on the table. “Enough, Michael! Victoria has provided us with legally binding, digitally notarized documents giving her proxy control over the trust, signed by Julian himself.”

“Those signatures were forged by Harold Kent,” I stated calmly, stopping a few feet from Victoria.

“A baseless accusation,” Victoria countered smoothly. “The documents are authenticated.”

“Authenticated by whom?” I asked. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the handkerchief. I unfolded it, revealing the silver necklace and the empty glass vial. I placed it gently on the center of the boardroom table.

“What is that?” Richard asked, frowning.

“That,” I said, “is the necklace I gave to my fiancée. And the vial inside it contained the same chemical compound she used to poison a young woman named Allison Reed at my house tonight.”

The board members shifted uncomfortably, murmuring among themselves.

Victoria laughed—a condescending, dismissive sound. “You brought a piece of jewelry to a corporate board meeting? Julian, you’re making a fool of yourself. That proves absolutely nothing.”

She was right. The necklace alone wasn’t enough to stop the vote. She was a master of plausible deniability.

But I hadn’t come here to fight her with jewelry.

“You’re right, Victoria,” I said, a cold smile touching my lips. “The necklace is just for the police. What I brought for the board is something much more important.”

I turned to the heavy boardroom doors.

“Daniel,” I called out.