“Of course, babe, I’ve got a bottle of the good stuff right here. You get the glasses.” I pressed my face closer to the bookshelf, hoping against hope to remain invisible. Lauren, pulling two crystal glasses from a small cabinet, glanced casually around the room. I accidentally looked up and, in the clear reflection of the glass door, I saw her quickly slip a small amount of white powder from a hidden pouch into one of the glasses—Oliver’s glass.
“Here, let me pour for you,” Lauren cooed, deliberately distracting Oliver as he struggled with the cork on the wine bottle, using the moment to hide the tampered glass behind her back. She quickly filled it nearly to the brim with the dark red liquor, then handed it to him with a sultry, inviting smile. “Here you go, my love,” she said, holding his gaze intently, “I want us to drink this whole thing down to the very last drop.” She took his own, untouched glass of wine from his hand. “To our love,” Oliver whispered, his lips brushing against hers. “Nothing in this world will ever tear us apart, not even death itself.”
“Till death do us part,” Lauren echoed, her voice a soft promise as she raised the poisoned glass to his lips. In that single, horrifying moment, a flash of clarity, sharp and cold, hit me. I remembered exactly where I had seen Lauren before. It was years ago, back when I used to visit my husband Victor at his office. There was a beautiful, flirtatious blonde working at the reception desk right outside his office. It was her. It was Lauren. She had been Victor’s secretary, and apparently, she had a very profitable side business, charming rich men, bleeding them dry, and then eliminating them when they were no longer useful.
As much of a scoundrel as Oliver was, he didn’t deserve such a gruesome and treacherous end. Spinning around, I threw the dusting rag I’d been holding directly at Lauren’s face. As the scheming woman flinched back in surprise, I swiftly stepped forward and knocked the cursed glass right out of her hand, sending it shattering to the floor.
“Don’t drink that,” I gasped, my eyes locked on Oliver. “Don’t you dare touch anything she tries to give you, or you’ll be dead before you hit the ground.” Oliver stared at me, his mouth hanging open in dumbfounded shock, while Lauren glared at me with a look of pure, undiluted hatred. She looked for a second as if she wanted to incinerate me where I stood, but instead, she threw herself onto Oliver’s shoulder, sobbing dramatically, “Ollie, I’m so scared! Who is this lunatic? What is she talking about?”
I could only marvel at how quickly her rage had morphed into this convincing performance of fake fear and adoration for her wealthy fiancé. Arthur’s half-brother kept staring at me, his initial shock slowly giving way to a wave of contempt and irritation. “What in the hell was that?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “You’d better start explaining yourself, and it had better be good.”
“There was poison in that glass,” I said quickly, the words tumbling out. “I saw her slip it in while your back was turned, while you were getting the wine. She was trying to kill you, right here in your own office.” “What?” Oliver exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch. “Have you completely lost your mind? Lauren is my fiancée—why in God’s name would she ever try to poison me?” He looked at her, his eyes pleading for a denial. A flicker of pure panic crossed Lauren’s face, but she forced it into a crooked, condescending smirk and scoffed, “What absolute nonsense! You’re not actually buying this, are you, honey? She’s just a jealous, bitter woman. I’ll bet her man ditched her the second he found out she was knocked up.”
Lauren shot me a smug, triumphant grin, daring me to try and counter her lies. Though her words cut deep, I refused to back down. My sense of justice, hardened by my own suffering, was far stronger than any insult. I stood my ground, pulling myself up to my full height, and looked Oliver directly in the eye, then turned my gaze to Lauren. “You have no idea who you are planning to tie your life to, Mr. Stevens,” I said, my voice cold and steady. “This woman may very well be responsible for my first husband’s death, and for completely destroying my life.”
I then recounted the entire, painful story—how I was accused of Victor’s murder, how I was imprisoned for a crime I didn’t commit, and how I was now forced to work these grueling hours just to feed myself and my unborn child, to have a warm bed to sleep in instead of a cold sidewalk. Hearing all of this, Oliver was visibly stunned. He turned slowly to face Lauren, his expression a mixture of confusion and dawning horror. “Is any of this true?” he asked her, his voice dangerously quiet. “Were you really trying to kill me just now?”
Lauren’s lips began to tremble. She nervously patted his arm, her eyes darting around the room, looking for an escape. “Oh, Ollie, of course not. Maybe she imagined something, got herself all worked up—you know how pregnancy hormones are. You’d really believe some random maid over me? Over your one and only Lauren, the love of your life?” Oliver stared at her in silence, but for the first time, I saw no warmth in his eyes. Unbelievably, he had finally sensed the lie hiding behind her beautiful face…
