Chapter 7 - The Final Supper
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Dinner was a masterclass in psychological torture.
We sat at opposite ends of the massive dining table. The crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the roasted duck and expensive red wine. Audrey was entirely in her element, playing the role of the devoted, grief-stricken fiancée. She spoke softly about her wedding plans, subtly weaving in comments about how much easier my life would be once the "burden" of my mother’s illness was lifted.
“My father called today,” Audrey mentioned casually, taking a sip of her wine. “He asked how the estate planning is going. He just wants to make sure we are protected, darling. With everything happening with Sylvia, we need to ensure the trust is secure.”
“The trust is perfectly secure,” I replied, cutting into my steak with methodical precision. “If anything happens to my mother, the assets transfer immediately. You and your father have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
Relief washed over her face in a sickening, visible wave. She thought she had won. She thought the millions required to pay off the Macau syndicate and the Russian mob were officially within her grasp.
“You know, Victor,” Audrey smiled, reaching across the table. “You have been under so much stress lately. You should sleep in the guest wing tonight. It’s quieter there. I will take the night shift with Sylvia. I don't want her coughing to wake you.”
It was the opening I had been waiting for. She needed me far away from the master suite so she could administer the final, lethal dose without interruption.
“Are you sure?” I asked, feigning hesitation. “It’s too much to ask of you.”
“I insist,” Audrey said firmly, her eyes glittering with dark ambition. “I have her medication schedule memorized. You just rest, my love. I will handle everything.”
“You are too good to me, Audrey,” I said, wiping my mouth with a linen napkin and standing up.
I walked over to her, leaned down, and kissed the top of her head.
“I will see you in the morning,” I whispered.
May you like
“Sleep well, Victor,” she replied.
I left the dining room, my blood running like ice water in my veins. The final act was in motion. Audrey believed she had a clear path to murder. What she didn't know was that the script had completely changed.
