Chapter 1: The Shattered Glass
The sound of shattering glass silenced the entire ballroom.
For a split second, no one moved.
The man—Daniel—stared down at the orange juice soaking into the marble floor, his hand still frozen midair. Then his gaze snapped toward the woman who had caused it.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” someone shouted.
But she didn’t respond.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. A thin scratch cut across her cheek, still faintly bleeding. Her eyes—wide, desperate, and unyielding—scanned the room.
“Don’t drink it,” she said, her voice trembling but loud enough to carry. “None of you. It’s poisoned.”
A wave of disbelief rippled through the guests.
Then came laughter.
“Oh, this is ridiculous,” said Victoria Hale, the bride, stepping forward in a pristine white gown. Her expression was sharp, controlled, but her eyes burned with irritation. “Who let her in here?”
“I’m serious,” the woman insisted, stepping forward despite the glares. “You’re all in danger.”
Victoria crossed her arms. “Security.”
Two men moved immediately, but the woman raised her phone.
“Wait.”
Something in her voice made them hesitate.
Her fingers shook as she unlocked the screen. “If I’m lying,” she said, swallowing hard, “then watch this.”
She turned the phone outward.
A video began to play.
The angle was shaky, hidden—filmed from behind a door. A figure stood near a table lined with identical glasses of orange juice. The lighting was dim, but the face was unmistakable.
Gasps filled the room.
The figure reached into a small vial… and poured its contents into the drinks.
The video paused.
The woman lifted her eyes, locking them onto one person in the crowd.
“You all trust her,” she said quietly.
May you like
Silence fell like a blade.
“Tell me…” her voice cracked slightly, “do you still trust her now?”
