Chapter 2 - THE CHAMPAGNE GLASS I REFUSED TO TOUCH
I had trusted Vanessa with my heart, my home, and practically every decision about my health.
Now a seven-year-old girl was telling me that the woman I intended to marry had been secretly putting something in my food.
And the worst part was that Vanessa was walking toward me with two champagne glasses.
"There you are, sweetheart," she said, smiling beneath the golden chandeliers. "Everyone's waiting for our toast."
She handed me a glass.
I looked at the pale liquid.
For six months, I had swallowed everything Vanessa brought me without a second thought.
Tonight, my hand wouldn't move.
"Something wrong?" she asked.
"Just a headache."
Her smile tightened.
"You've been having those a lot lately."
Behind her, I spotted Lily standing near the kitchen entrance.
The little girl held her worn stuffed rabbit against her chest.
Her mother, Rosa Ortiz, stood beside her, looking terrified.
I raised my champagne glass without drinking.
"Before we toast," I announced, "I'd like to thank everyone for being here."
Applause filled the ballroom.
I couldn't hear most of it.
The room sounded as though someone had wrapped a thick blanket around my head.
Vanessa touched my elbow.
"You're speaking too loudly," she whispered.
I smiled for the guests.
"Then I suppose everyone can hear how happy I am."
They laughed.
Vanessa didn't.
She wanted me to behave exactly as she expected.
I intended to disappoint her.
After the toast, I quietly approached Marcus Reed, my longtime head of security.
Marcus was fifty-three, a former Chicago police detective who had protected my family for nearly twelve years.
"Marcus, I need you to do something discreetly."
He leaned closer.
"Of course, sir."
"Preserve every security recording from the kitchen, pantry, and service hallways for the past thirty days. Make an independent copy."
His expression changed.
"Is there a threat?"
"I don't know yet."
"Then I'll treat it like there is."
I also asked him to make sure nobody discarded my dinner plate or the small bowl of soup Vanessa had sent to my office earlier.
Marcus didn't ask why.
That was one reason I trusted him.
Twenty minutes later, I found Rosa near the laundry corridor.
Lily stood behind her.
"Rosa," I said quietly, "how long have you worked for us?"
"Almost eight months, Mr. Clarke."
"And how long have you suspected something was wrong with my food?"
Her face went white.
"I don't understand."
Lily tugged her mother's sleeve.
Then she signed.
Tell him, Mama.
Rosa looked at her daughter with frightened eyes.
"Please," she whispered. "We need this job."
I lowered myself until I was level with Lily.
"Did you actually see Vanessa put something in my food?"
Lily nodded.
Blue bottle, she signed. Little spoon. Every night.
"Where?"
Kitchen. Sometimes your office.
Rosa covered her face.
"She told me it was a vitamin supplement," Rosa whispered. "Something prescribed by your doctor."
"Who told you?"
"Miss Vanessa."
My stomach tightened.
"Did you ever see a prescription?"
Rosa shook her head.
"Then why didn't you ask me?"
Tears filled her eyes.
"Because when I questioned her, she told me my daughter's school assistance would disappear if I caused trouble."
Lily pressed her rabbit against her cheek.
I looked at Rosa more carefully.
She wasn't defending Vanessa.
She was protecting the only security her daughter had.
"I'm not firing you," I said. "And Lily won't lose her school."
Rosa began crying.
But before she could explain further, Marcus appeared at the end of the hallway.
"Mr. Clarke," he said, "there's someone you should speak to."
"Who?"
"Dr. Samuel Reed."
I knew the name.
Dr. Reed was the hearing specialist Vanessa had persuaded me to consult three months earlier.
He was attending the engagement party as a guest.
I found him beside the library, speaking with an older couple.
When I asked for a private conversation, he immediately excused himself.
"Doctor," I began, "did you prescribe any medication for my hearing problems?"
"No."
"Any supplements?"
"No. I recommended further testing."
"Then why would Vanessa be putting something from a blue medicine bottle into my meals?"
His expression changed.
"What blue bottle?"
I described what Lily had seen.
The doctor's face grew increasingly troubled.
"Ethan, I need you to answer something carefully. Have you been experiencing confusion, memory problems, or unusual behavior?"
"Not beyond the frustration of losing my hearing."
He stared at me.
"That's not what Vanessa told me."
"What did she tell you?"
"She said you were becoming paranoid. That you believed people were tampering with your food."
I felt a cold sensation spread through my chest.
"Doctor, I didn't suspect anything until tonight."
Dr. Reed reached into his jacket and took out his phone.
"Three weeks ago, I requested another series of blood tests. Your fiancée contacted my office and said you refused."
"I never refused."
He looked directly at me.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"Vanessa asked me to evaluate your ability to make financial and business decisions. She wanted an assessment of whether you were mentally competent to continue running your company."
I stared at him.
"Why would a hearing specialist be asked to do that?"
"That's exactly what I asked her."
"And?"
"She said she was worried about your judgment."
He hesitated.
Then he added something that made the entire evening suddenly feel much more dangerous.
"Ethan, she wasn't trying to arrange treatment for your hearing."
May you like
He looked toward the ballroom.
"She was trying to build a medical case that you were no longer fit to control your own company."
