He froze beneath me.
It was instant, like a switch flipped inside him. His body went rigid, his muscles locked, and his breath stalled halfway in his chest.
Sweat cooled between us, slick and uncomfortable now. His eyes opened slowly and fixed on the ceiling, unfocused, as if the answers he didn't want were written up there.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, and I felt it settle in my gut with sick certainty.
He wasn't going to say yes.
I could just feel it!
Victor suddenly rolled out from under me and staggered toward the bathroom, one hand clamped over his mouth.
The sound of retching echoed down the narrow hall—wet, violent, whiskey coming back up. I stayed where I was, sprawled on the bed, naked and sticky. My heart was pounding so hard it made my ears ring. The water started running and didn't stop. He stayed in there for a long time, splashing water all over his face, like he was trying to wash away more than alcohol. Like he was scrubbing guilt off his skin. Like he could sober himself out of what had just happened.
I pulled the sheet over my body and sat up, my hands shaking. "I felt it.
Victor," I called, my voice trembling but determined.
"You love me like I love you, so why can't you just leave, Elena? You were furious an hour ago. You walked in ready to tear the house apart because you thought I was with someone else."
The water immediately cuts off.
He came out slowly. His face was pale, eyes clearer now but rimmed red, his hair dripping wet and pushed back with careless fingers. He'd pulled on his suit in a rush; his suit were still unbuttoned and his collar crooked. He looked like a man sobering into regret.
"What the hell is going through that damned head of yours, Alyssa?" he shouted, his voice raw, anger cracking through it.
I flinched but forced myself to stand, clutching the sheet to my chest. "I just thought," I said, the words stumbling out, "that it would be better. For us. You and me."
He laughed, sharp and bitter. "Leave Elena?" His laugh held no humor at all. "Are you out of your mind? I would never leave my wife. Not for you. Not for anyone."
The words landed like blows.
Never.
Not for you.
He grabbed his head, hissing as pain flared behind his eyes. His posture collapsed, rage draining out of him as quickly as it had appeared. He leaned against the wall for support, as he slid down slowly and sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees.
"Are you okay?" I asked before I could stop myself.
"Yeah," he muttered, blinking softly with his hand gently placed against his head "Yeah… I've been feeling sick for a while now."
My breath caught. "Sick how?"
He shrugged weakly. "Been getting these headaches, Constant exhaustion, Nausea, Stomach issues. I figured it was stress."
He rubbed his eyes like they burned. "Elena brought in the family doctor. He ran a full panel and said I'm perfectly fine. I just need rest." so it's nothing to worry about really
Elena.
She chose the doctor and said he was fine.
My thoughts raced, colliding into panic. Thallium in my system. Slow poisoning.
Identical symptoms. The doctor cleared him because Elena told him to. Because Elena always controlled the narrative.
I lowered my voice. "Do you trust Elena, Victor?"
He let out a tired, almost fond laugh. "Why wouldn't I? She's my wife." he answered innocently
Blind.
He slumped backward suddenly, as his body hit the mattress. "Victor!" I rushed forward and shook him, panick clawing up my throat. He groaned, eyelids fluttering, then went limp again, He passed out coldly, he was drunken sick
I grabbed my phone with trembling hands and opened Elena's messages, shoving the screen toward his face even though I knew he could barely see it. "Look," I pleaded. "The timing. The texts. Everything lines up."
He squinted, then laughed weakly. "You're paranoid, Lys. There's nothing wrong with this. You know your sister… she can be too loving sometimes."
Too loving.
I stepped away and paced around the room, my chest felt tight with fear. "Please," I whispered. "Be careful. Something is wrong."
His phone rang, the sound slicing through the quiet. He stirred, groaning as he pushed himself upright and answered it. "Yeah…"
He listened, his expression shifting as guilt crept across his face. He didn't argue. He didn't explain. He just nodded to himself, grabbed his suitcase, and buttoned his shirt with clumsy fingers.
"I gotta go," he said, already moving toward the door.
The lock clicked behind him.
I stood there alone, still naked beneath the sheet, his cum cooling against my skin and my mind spinning too fast to hold onto a single thought.
Then his phone buzzed.
It lay on the floor where it had slipped from his hand. I picked it up as the screen lit.
A text from Elena.
Come home, love. Lily's asleep. We need to talk about Alyssa.
My blood went cold.
I couldn't quite place alysa yet,there was no evidence, it's either I am going crazy or she's a snake disguised as a saint.
My legs shaked. Why does she want to talk about me?
What game is she playing?
Is she really behind all this? I needed to find out
And Victor was walking straight back into her house—drunk, sick, blindly straight into whatever she had waiting for him.
I clutched the phone, my heart was screaming, because if she'd poisoned him too…