Chapter 3 - The Live-Stream VerdictThe revelation hit the room like a physical blow.
Celeste Morgan, Victoria’s high-fashion socialite friend, let out a muffled shriek and grabbed her throat. The board members scrambled to check their own phones, but the screen icons clearly showed zero bars—a signal jammer had been activated inside the room the moment the iron shutters slammed shut.
“You’re broadcasting this?” Maya whispered, staring at the tiny black lens pinned to Thomas’s lapel.
“Every single frame,” Thomas said, standing less than three feet from Richard. “The camera went live three minutes ago, right when Mrs. Caldwell admitted to secretly administering Atropine to counter the poison. The internet is currently watching the great Caldwell empire collapse in real-time.”
Richard’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. The weakness that had briefly overcome him vanished, replaced by the instinct of a corporate predator who had survived decades of hostile takeovers.
“You think a stream ruins me, Thomas? You think an internet mob can destroy a multi-billion-dollar hedge fund?” Richard leaned across the table, placing his palms flat on the wood. “You have no physical evidence that I framed your father. The court records were sealed a decade ago.”
“They were,” Thomas agreed mildly. “Until twenty minutes ago, when I sent the decrypted files from your private server in Zurich to the Federal Bureau of Investigation. The password was your mother’s maiden name combined with the date of your first marriage—remarkably unoriginal, Richard.”
Victoria gasped, looking at her husband. “Zurich? You told me those accounts didn't exist!”
“Shut up, Victoria!” Richard snapped, his face turning an unhealthy shade of purple. “You knew nothing about Zurich!”
“I knew enough to know you were transferring assets out of our joint accounts for the last six months!” Victoria screamed back, stepping toward him, her diamond earrings swinging wildly. “You were setting me up! You wanted me to look like the greedy, hysterical wife who poisoned her husband so you could fake your own death and escape to South America with your shell companies!”
Maya’s jaw dropped. The narrative was shifting so fast her mind was struggling to keep pace.
Was Victoria the victim? Was Richard the villain? Or was everyone in this room guilty of something terrible?
“Wait,” Maya said loudly, her voice cutting through the escalating shouting match between husband and wife. “If Richard was planning to fake his death... then who was actually poisoning him?”
Thomas’s smile faded. He looked at Maya with a cold, piercing intensity.
“That’s the beauty of this dinner party, Maya,” Thomas said softly. “Richard wasn't faking the poison. Someone in this room was legitimately trying to kill him tonight. And it wasn't me.”
The room went dead silent again. The heavy humming of the chandelier above seemed to grow louder, casting long, sinister shadows across the faces of the terrified guests.
“If you didn't put the poison in the wine, Thomas...” Maya began, her eyes darting across the table.
“I only provided the platform,” Thomas said, gesturing to the locked room. “I knew the killer would act tonight. I let them proceed because I wanted Richard to face his mortality before I exposed his crimes to the world. But now... we have a small problem.”
May you like
Thomas pulled a tiny glass vial from his pocket. It was completely empty.
“This vial contained the pure neurotoxin compound,” Thomas revealed. “I found it hidden inside the pantry trash ten minutes ago. It was emptied into the main wine decanter before Mrs. Caldwell added her antidote. Which means... whoever poisoned the bottle is sitting at this table right now, holding the trigger.”
