Chapter 4 - THE POISONED ALLIANCE
"To catch a killer, you must dance with the devil in the light of day."
Matthew didn't answer her question that night, nor the next day. He simply told her that the time for hiding was over.
"We are attending the Winter Gala tonight," Matthew announced as they sat in the dining room. "Isabel will be there, trying to rally the board members to vote me out of the acquisition. We must show them a united front."
"She accused you of being involved in my father's death!" Elena said, slamming her hands on the table. "How can I stand by your side when I don't even know if you killed him?"
Matthew stood up, walking over to her. He leaned down, his face inches from hers. "If I wanted Julian Vargas dead, Elena, I would have taken his company openly. I do not use poison. It is a coward's weapon. Your father was a friend of mine. He came to me because he knew Isabel was skimming off the top. I was trying to help him secure your inheritance before she got to it. But we were too late."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box, opening it to reveal a stunning diamond necklace. He leaned in, wrapping it around her neck, his cold fingers brushing against her skin, sending chills down her spine.
"Tonight, we play the part of the happy, powerful couple," Matthew whispered in her ear. "You will smile. You will look beautiful. And we will watch her crumble."
Hours later, the grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel was bathed in gold light. The city’s elite chatted over champagne, but all whispers ceased when the doors opened.
Matthew and Elena walked in arm-in-arm.
Elena was breathtaking in a midnight-blue silk gown that clung to her curves, her hair styled in elegant waves, her diamond necklace catching the light. Matthew looked devastatingly handsome in a black tuxedo. They looked like royalty.
Isabel was across the room, desperately talking to a group of elderly board members. When she saw Elena, her wine glass shattered in her grip.
"Ah, the newlyweds!" a voice boomed.
It was Mr. Ambrose. The man who had tried to buy her. He was a bloated, oily man with predatory eyes. He walked up to them, a sickening smile on his face.
"Matthew, you always take the best pieces on the board," Ambrose sneered, his eyes lingering on Elena’s collarbone. "Though I believe your wife and I had an unfinished business meeting."
Matthew’s grip on Elena’s waist tightened, his knuckles turning white. "Ambrose. I suggest you keep your eyes on your own assets. My wife's portfolio is strictly private."
"Of course, of course," Ambrose chuckled, though his eyes remained cold. "But assets have a way of changing hands in this city."
Suddenly, the glass ceiling of the ballroom shattered.
A loud crack echoed through the hall, followed by a shower of sharp glass.
"Sniper!" someone screamed.
Panic erupted instantly. Guests shrieked, running for the exits as another shot rang out, chipping the marble pillar right next to Elena’s head.
Before she could react, Matthew tackled her to the floor, shielding her body with his own. She could hear his rapid heartbeat, feel the heat radiating from him as glass rained down around them.
"Marcus!" Matthew roared into his earpiece. "Secure the perimeter! East wing balcony!"
Matthew pulled Elena up, keeping his body between her and the exposed ballroom floor. They moved quickly through the screaming crowd toward the service exit.
But as they reached the dark hallway behind the kitchen, a figure stepped out from the shadows.
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It was Isabel’s bodyguard, holding a silenced pistol. And he was pointing it directly at Elena.
"Mrs. Vargas sends her regards," the man whispered, pulling the trigger.
