Chapter 2
The bright, cinematic lighting of the dining salon offered no shadows to hide the brutal reality unfolding at the head table. The fifty guests remained frozen, their champagne flutes hovering in the air as they watched the estate administrator hold a glass to the boss's lips.
Mireille did not hesitate. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she abandoned her station by the serving carts. Her black dress swished softly as she closed the distance, stepping directly into the violent, highly volatile space between Reeve, Aurelia, and the two massive bodyguards.
She immediately approached Reeve, her lower lip trembling violently. She reached into the pocket of her white apron and retrieved a pristine, folded white linen napkin. Moving with incredible gentleness, a stark contrast to the aggression of the bodyguards, she reached out and lightly touched Reeve’s cheek with the clean fabric, wiping away a stray drop of wine that had spilled onto his skin.
Reeve’s dark eyes shifted from Aurelia to the housemaid. He was breathing heavily, his broad shoulders locked in tension against the bodyguards' grips, but as he met Mireille’s expressive eyes, the lethal fury in his gaze flickered, replaced by a profound, urgent questioning.
"Sir…" Mireille whispered. Her voice was shaken, cracking with raw terror, but laced with a desperate, urgent devotion that carried over the heavy silence of the room. "I saw her poison that bottle."
The words dropped like an explosive charge onto the marble floor.
Reeve’s gaze snapped away from Mireille, shifting immediately toward the heavy crystal vessel resting on the nearby table—his private wine decanter, distinctly marked with the red ribbon. The implication was horrific. Aurelia wasn't just demanding a display of loyalty; she was actively executing a public assassination, using his own private stock to do it.
Aurelia heard the whispered accusation. Her eyes widened, the polished facade of the elegant hostess completely fracturing, revealing the panicked, ruthless ambition beneath. She looked at the housemaid in absolute disgust, realizing that her meticulously planned coup had just been exposed by a servant.
"She's lying!" Aurelia shrieked, her voice echoing shrilly off the vaulted ceilings.
She turned her attention back to Reeve, desperate to finish what she had started before he could fully process the reality of the trap. She tightened her grip on his sharp jawline, her diamond rings scraping against his skin as she leveraged her entire body weight to force his head back.
"She’s a maid," Aurelia spat dismissively, her American accent turning harsh and venomous. "She makes things up to get your attention! Drink it, Reeve!"
With a vicious, desperate motion, Aurelia tilted the heavy crystal glass toward his mouth again, determined to force the poisoned liquid past his lips before he could break free from the guards.
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Mireille saw the glass moving toward him. She realized that the bodyguards were too strong, and Reeve’s sheer physical strength was useless while his arms were pinned. He was going to die right in front of her.
Without a second thought, Mireille turned toward the nearby dining table. She grabbed the edge of a heavy, solid silver serving tray.
