Chapter 6 - THE POISONED CHALICE
The fake engagement made us a massive target. Silas grew desperate, his meticulously doctored financial empire crumbling as Lorenzo froze the offshore accounts we had identified. The retaliation came during a charity gala Lorenzo was forced to attend to maintain public appearances. I wore a backless crimson gown, walking arm-in-arm with a man whose touch I was beginning to crave.
We were seated at the VIP table when a waiter handed Lorenzo a glass of scotch. Something about the man’s posture—the rigid shoulders, the lack of eye contact—made my stomach drop. It was the same nervous energy Marcus used to get before a violent outburst. As Lorenzo raised the glass to his lips, I remembered the drugged nurse.
"Don't!" I gasped, intentionally knocking the crystal glass from his hand. It shattered against the marble floor. The waiter panicked, reaching into his jacket. Lorenzo was faster. He pulled a concealed blade, driving it into the man’s shoulder and pinning him to the table before anyone could scream. Under interrogation in the back rooms of the gala, the bleeding hitman confessed. Silas had laced the drink with an undetectable neurotoxin. My paranoia, born from years of surviving a monster, had just saved the life of a king.
