Chapter 2 - The Chemistry of Betrayal
The study was filled with the low hum of my laptop as the memory card loaded,
the blue light casting long,
ghastly shadows across the mahogany shelves.
Owen sat curled in a chair by the fireplace,
clutching a glass of warm milk Whitney had brought him,
his eyes never leaving me.
Marcus arrived exactly eighteen minutes later,
followed by a gray-haired man carrying a professional medical kit.
"Adrianna,
you sounded like you were at war,"
Marcus said,
stepping into the room and immediately noticing the tension in the air.
"I am at war, Marcus,"
I replied,
handing the brown bottle to the technician.
"Test these."
"My husband told me they were custom vitamins."
"My son tells me they’re a death sentence."
The technician,
a man named Dr. Aris,
opened the bottle and poured a single white capsule into a glass vial.
He added a drop of clear liquid,
and within seconds,
the mixture turned a violent,
angry shade of red.
"It’s not vitamins,
Mrs. Solomon,"
Aris said,
his voice grim.
"It’s a concentrated dose of a synthetic sedative combined with a slow-acting toxin."
"Taken once,
it would make you sleep deeply."
"Taken every night for a week,
it would cause a massive,
undetectable cardiac arrest during your sleep."
"It’s designed to look like a natural heart failure brought on by stress."
I felt the air leave the room.
David hadn't just wanted me gone;
he wanted me to die by my own hand,
swallowing the poison he had gifted me with a kiss.
"Now look at this,"
I said,
turning the laptop screen toward Marcus.
The video from the memory card began to play.
It was a recording from two nights ago,
inside the SUV.
David and Maggie were sitting in the front seats,
their voices clear and chillingly casual.
"Is the dosage right,
David?"
Maggie’s voice echoed through the room.
"I don't want her lingering."
"The construction company's quarterly audit is coming up,"
"and we need her signature on the transfer papers before she... expires."
"It's perfect, Mother,"
David replied,
tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
"She trusts me implicitly."
"She’ll take the first one tonight because she’s 'exhausted'."
"Once she’s under,
I’ll use her thumb to authorize the digital transfers."
"By the time she stops breathing on Tuesday,"
"the Solomon legacy will be sitting in our offshore accounts in the Caymans."
"And the boy?"
Maggie asked.
"He’s a liability,"
David snapped.
"Once the funeral is over,
I’ve already made arrangements with that school in Switzerland."
"The one for the 'difficult' cases."
"They don't allow visitors,
and they don't ask questions."
Marcus Thorne slammed his fist onto the desk,
a rare display of emotion from the stoic lawyer.
"Those bastards,"
he hissed.
"They’ve been siphoning funds for months,
Adrianna."
"I noticed some irregularities in the company accounts,"
"but I thought it was just David being aggressive with investments."
"He wasn't investing, Marcus,"
I said,
my eyes fixed on the screen.
"He was preparing a nest for himself and his mother built on my grave."
"I want them caught,
but I don't want them arrested yet."
"They’re at Pinecrest Lake,
thinking they’re waiting for news of my 'tragedy'."
"I want to give them exactly what they’re looking for,"
"but with a very different ending."
"What are you suggesting?"
Marcus asked.
"We’re going to stage my 'collapse',"
I said,
a cold smile touching my lips for the first time.
"I want David to rush home to a house full of 'grieving' relatives."
"I want him to feel the victory within his grasp."
May you like
"And then,"
"I want the police to walk out of the shadows."
