Chapter 1
Salvatore held the sealed decanter between both hands.
I never took my eyes off Katherine.
“You have to drink this entire bottle of wine, right here, right now.”
Her face drained.
That was enough.
I had not said the wine was poisoned.
I had not accused her of putting anything inside it.
I had only asked her to drink what had been prepared for me.
And she looked terrified.
Clara was still in my arms, both hands locked behind my neck. Her breathing came in small, uneven pulls against my collar.
Marcus lay beneath the tilted grandfather clock several yards away.
Katherine stared at the decanter.
“You’re insane.”
I looked at Salvatore.
“Don’t open it.”
Katherine’s eyes flicked toward him.
Again.
Useful.
“Why not?” she demanded.
I almost smiled.
“Because I want to know what frightens you before anybody touches it.”
Silence.
Clara whispered against my neck:
“Aunt Katherine said don’t spill Daddy’s special wine.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
“When?”
“Before dinner.”
Katherine snapped:
“She’s confused.”
Clara flinched.
I shifted her higher against me.
“No.”
My voice stayed low.
“She heard something you did not expect her to repeat.”
Marcus groaned and pushed himself upright.
“Katherine never said she poisoned anything.”
I looked at him.
“Neither did I.”
He stopped.
Another mistake.
The entire dining gallery went quiet.
I turned toward Salvatore.
“Who handled that decanter?”
His expression hardened.
“My wine steward filled it personally.”
“Then?”
“Marcus requested it be moved to your private place setting.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
There it was.
Katherine looked at him.
Not fear.
Anger.
I looked between them.
The plan was already cracking.
I set Clara carefully into Salvatore’s free arm.
Then I walked toward the table.
The wineglass beside my plate remained untouched.
Around it sat twenty members of my family pretending they had not just watched two senior relatives panic over a bottle meant only for me.
I looked at Katherine.
“You told my daughter she would eat last when I was gone.”
Her chin lifted.
“So tell me.”
May you like
I pointed toward the decanter.
“How long have you been planning for me to be gone?”
