Chapter 6 - THE POISONED GLASS
Grant stopped breathing.
A cardiologist attending the gala dropped beside him.
“Give me space!”
Victoria screamed her brother's name.
Malcolm fell to his knees.
I stood frozen.
I hated Grant.
Minutes earlier, I had wanted him arrested.
I wanted him exposed.
I wanted him to understand what consequences felt like.
I did not want him dead.
“Pulse is weak!”
Marcus shouted toward his team.
“Medical kit!”
An officer arrived with an emergency case.
The cardiologist worked.
Seconds stretched.
Then Grant coughed violently.
He dragged in a breath.
Victoria collapsed beside him.
Malcolm covered his face.
The doctor looked up.
“He needs a hospital.”
Marcus nodded.
“We have an ambulance outside.”
I looked toward the doors.
“Open one controlled exit.”
Marcus hesitated.
“Claire.”
“We are not letting him die.”
He nodded.
The north barrier opened just enough for medical personnel.
Grant was moved out under armed escort.
Malcolm went with him.
Victoria tried.
Marcus stopped her.
“Not yet.”
She stared at him.
“That's my brother.”
“And somebody poisoned him inside this room.”
Her face changed.
Marcus continued.
“Until we know who, nobody else leaves.”
Victoria looked at me.
“You did this.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“You locked us in.”
“I locked the person who poisoned him inside too.”
She had no answer.
Marcus examined the glass.
“Who served Grant?”
Nobody volunteered.
I looked toward the bar.
Mr. Collins was pale.
“Who?”
He swallowed.
“Grant wasn't served by us.”
“What?”
“He brought that glass from the VIP lounge.”
The VIP lounge.
A private room upstairs.
Accessible only by invitation.
I looked toward Marcus.
“Camera footage.”
“Checking.”
Minutes later, the screens changed.
Grant appeared upstairs.
He entered the VIP lounge.
Six people were inside.
Judge Reynolds.
Ryan Mercer.
Victoria.
A pharmaceutical executive named Nathan Cole.
Congressman Elliot Vance.
And Daniel Cross.
I stared at the screen.
Cross smiled.
“I didn't poison him.”
“Maybe.”
The footage showed Grant setting his glass on a table.
Then leaving to answer a call.
Six people remained.
For thirty-seven seconds, the glass was unattended.
Then the camera feed glitched.
Black.
Eight seconds later, the picture returned.
Grant picked up the glass.
Cross laughed quietly.
“Eight seconds.”
I looked at him.
“Enough time?”
“For poison?”
He shrugged.
“More than enough.”
Marcus approached the control system.
“Someone deliberately interrupted the camera.”
“How?”
“Internal access.”
I looked around the room.
Someone here understood the estate security system.
That narrowed things.
Then I remembered something.
The steel barriers.
The disabled garage exit.
The interrupted cameras.
Someone wasn't merely trapped inside my house.
Someone had prepared for this night.
Before I ever made the call to Dad.
I looked at Marcus.
“The attack on me wasn't the beginning.”
His eyes narrowed.
“No.”
“It was part of something else.”
Cross smiled.
“Finally.”
I turned toward him.
“What do you know?”
He looked toward the ballroom full of frightened elites.
“Grant wasn't supposed to attack you.”
“What was supposed to happen?”
May you like
Cross leaned closer.
“You were supposed to die.”
