Chapter 5 - A Toast to the Unsuspecting
By five-thirty in the afternoon, the apartment was filled with the heavy scent of roasting garlic and Julian’s favorite pinot noir breathing on the dining sideboard.
Morgan stood in front of the vanity mirror in the master bedroom, smoothing down the fabric of an emerald-green silk dress.
Around her neck hung a gold chain that looked identical to the one Julian had given her twenty-four hours earlier.
It was a harmless twelve-dollar brass replica Evelyn had procured from a costume jeweler in Cicero, polished until it gleamed with the exact sheen of sixteen-karat gold.
The original poisoned instrument sat inside an evidence bag hidden securely inside the lining of Evelyn’s car trunk, alongside Gregory’s certified toxicology report.
Morgan adjusted the fake pendant so it rested squarely over the hollow of her throat, right where Julian expected it to be.
She heard the front door open, followed by the familiar sound of Julian’s keys clattering into the bronze dish in the foyer.
“Morgan?” he called out, his voice carrying an edge of nervous anticipation.
“In here, sweetheart,” she called back, stepping out of the bedroom into the hallway.
Julian was carrying an expensive bouquet of white lilies, his dark eyes instantly locking onto her neck.
When he saw the gold chain resting against her bare skin, his entire body seemed to release a breath he had been holding all day.
A predatory, triumphant satisfaction spread across his face, so intense that his smile looked grotesque under the hallway sconces.
“You put it on,” he whispered, dropping the flowers onto the console table as he walked toward her.
“You told me you wanted to see me shining,” Morgan said, stepping closer and allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist.
His hands were warm, but she could feel the faint, rapid tremor in his fingers.
He leaned in, his lips brushing the side of her neck, mere millimeters from the replica pendant that he believed was currently saturating her blood with poison.
“It looks breathtaking on you, Morgan,” he murmured, his voice thick with an excitement he couldn't entirely conceal.
“I knew it would suit you the moment I saw it.”
“Why don't we open the wine before we leave for the restaurant?” Morgan suggested, pulling back with a coy smile.
“To celebrate your new venture, and to celebrate the future.”
“A toast sounds perfect,” Julian said eagerly, walking toward the kitchen to retrieve the wine glasses.
Morgan watched his back as he moved, noticing how his shoulders were squared, how light his footsteps were.
In his mind, Morgan was already a walking corpse with less than two hours of biological function left before her heart seized.
He poured two generous glasses of the deep red wine, handing one to Morgan while keeping his eyes glued to the fake medallion on her chest.
“To new beginnings,” Julian said, raising his glass until the crystal chimed against hers.
“And to eternal rest from all our financial worries,” Morgan added, her voice steady and clear.
Julian laughed, a low, confident sound, and took a long drink from his glass.
Morgan brought her glass to her lips, pretending to sip while letting the wine merely touch her mouth.
Julian checked his wristwatch, a subtle, involuntary motion that did not escape her notice.
He was timing the onset of the symptoms.
He was waiting for the dizziness, the shortness of breath, the sudden clutch at her chest that would signal the digitalis had taken control of her sinus rhythm.
“You know, Julian,” Morgan said, walking slowly toward the sofa and sitting down with theatrical grace.
“I spent some time thinking about the cottage in Door County today.”
Julian’s eyes brightened instantly as he followed her into the living room, glass in hand.
“Did you?” he asked, sitting opposite her on the edge of the leather armchair.
“I think you were right all along,” she said, tilting her head and watching him like a hawk.
“Memories really don't pay the bills, do they?”
“I’m so glad you finally understand, Morgan,” he said, leaning forward, his eyes darting once more to her throat to check for any visible flushing of her skin.
“We can sign the paperwork on Monday; everything is already prepared.”
“I know it is,” Morgan replied softly, her smile vanishing entirely as she set her wine glass down onto the coffee table.
“Just like the documents you prepared for Claire in Michigan five years ago.”
The color drained from Julian’s face so fast that he looked like a statue carved from chalk.
May you like
His hand froze mid-air, the stem of his wine glass trembling violently as his dark eyes locked onto Morgan’s unblinking stare.
Outside the apartment building, the faint, rising wail of emergency sirens cut through the evening rain, growing louder with every passing second.
