The Little Maid Said My Fiancée Was Poisoning Me — So I Asked Her To Eat My Breakfast First

At 6:00 p.m. that evening, the rain had turned into a full-scale thunderstorm over Lake Michigan.

Daniel walked into his mansion. The house was dimly lit, silent, and cold.

In the formal dining room, the mahogany table was set for two with sterling silver cutlery, crystal wine glasses, and beeswax candles flickering in the draft.

Victoria walked out of the kitchen wearing a stunning crimson silk dress, carrying a silver tray with two covered porcelain soup bowls. She looked radiant, completely unaware that Thomas Sterling was currently sitting in a federal holding cell down town.

"Daniel!" she said softly, setting the bowls down. "You’re home early. Perfect timing. I made a French onion soup to warm you up after that terrible rain."

Daniel took off his wet coat, draped it over a chair, and walked to the head of the dining table.

He looked down at the soup bowl in front of his plate. Steam curled from the rich broth. Floating near the surface were faint, oily droplets that didn't blend with the broth—the heavy liquid suspension of digoxin and thallium.

"It looks delicious, Victoria," Daniel said softly.

Victoria sat across from him, pulling her chair in, smiling warmly. "Eat it while it’s hot, darling. You look so pale today. You need your strength."

Daniel sat down. He picked up his silver spoon, dipped it into the soup, and lifted it halfway to his mouth.

Victoria’s eyes locked onto the spoon. Her breathing hitched slightly, her fingers pressing into the fabric of her dress beneath the table.

Daniel stopped the spoon two inches from his lips.

He looked across the table, meeting her eyes directly.

"Victoria," Daniel said calmly. "Do you remember what Annie told me yesterday morning?"

Victoria’s smile vanished instantly. A cold, sharp stillness took over her face.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice dropping an octave.

"She told me that people who try to buy children are never good people," Daniel said.

He set the spoon back down into the bowl with a sharp clink.

"She also told me to ask you to eat first," Daniel added softly.

Victoria sat frozen in her chair. The candlelight flickered across her pale cheeks, casting long, sinister shadows across her eyes.

"You know," Daniel continued, leaning back in his chair, "I ran a toxicology test on the butter yesterday, Evelyn."

When he spoke her real name—Evelyn—she didn't gasp. She didn't cry.

The delicate, polished persona of Victoria Lang peeled away in an instant, revealing the cold, reptilian predator underneath. Her eyes narrowed into dark, vicious slits.

"Where is Thomas?" she asked, her voice stripped of all sweetness, flat and raspy.

"Thomas is in federal custody," Daniel said. "His servers were cloned at midnight. Your offshore accounts in Panama have been frozen by the Department of Justice. And Arthur Vance’s family in Florida has just been notified that his body is being exhumed for heavy-metal testing."

Evelyn stared at him across the table. Slowly, a bitter, terrifying smile spread across her red lips.

"You think you’re so smart, don't you, Daniel?" she sneered, reaching into her silk dress pocket. "You think a billionaire with a big house can just trap me?"

She pulled out a small, sleek chrome pocket knife, clicking the blade open with a sharp SNAP.

"I'm not going back to prison, Daniel," she whispered, standing up and stepping around the table toward him. "If I'm going down, your heart stops tonight anyway."

Daniel didn't even move from his chair.

"Look up, Evelyn," Daniel said calmly.

Evelyn stopped three feet away, her eyes flicking toward the ceiling.

Hidden behind the crystal chandelier, three bright red LED lights were blinking in the dark molding.

"You’re being broadcast live to six federal agents sitting in a command van outside my gate," Daniel said softly.

Before she could step forward, the heavy glass doors of the dining room were kicked open with a thunderous crash.

"FBI! DROP THE WEAPON! DROP IT NOW!"

Eight federal agents with tactical flashlights and assault rifles flooded the dining room, blinding Evelyn with harsh white light.

"DROP THE KNIFE!"

The chrome knife slipped from Evelyn’s trembling fingers, clattering against the marble floor. Two female agents tackled her to the ground, pinning her arms behind her back as the heavy steel handcuffs clicked tightly around her wrists.