Chapter 3 - My Husband Chose His Side
I confronted Daniel in our bedroom.
The laboratory report lay between us on the bed.
He read the first page without speaking.
“Your mother poisoned me,” I said.
“That report doesn’t prove she did it.”
“She served the tea.”
“A supplier could have contaminated it.”
“With concentrated almond extract?”
Daniel placed the report down.
“You’re upset. You almost died. I understand why you want someone to blame.”
The calmness of his voice frightened me more than anger would have.
“I’m not imagining this.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You hesitated when I asked for my injector.”
His jaw tightened.
“I was in shock.”
“You told Rosa to leave the room.”
“I asked her to prepare the guest rooms.”
“During a medical emergency?”
“You weren’t having an emergency when I entered.”
“I could barely breathe.”
He walked toward the window.
Outside, the garden lights shone across the snow.
“You’ve hated my mother for years,” he said.
I stared at him.
“Your mother nearly killed me, and you’re accusing me of hatred?”
“She made mistakes, but you’ve been waiting for an excuse to throw her out.”
“I own this house.”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“That tone. Your house. Your company. Your money.”
Daniel turned to face me.
“What exactly do I have, Emily?”
“A marriage. A home. A life most people would be grateful for.”
“A life controlled by you.”
I finally understood that the argument had never been about Margaret.
It was about ownership.
Daniel believed my success had taken something from him. Margaret had fed that resentment until it became permission.
“Did you know what was in the tea?” I asked.
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
“Look at me and say it.”
He met my eyes.
“I did not know my mother put almond extract in your tea.”
It was a carefully constructed sentence.
He had not said he knew nothing about a plan.
That night, I moved into a guest room and called my father.
Dad listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he said, “Leave the mansion.”
“It belongs to my company.”
“Buildings can be recovered. Lives cannot.”
“I’m not letting them force me out.”
“Then stop treating this like a family disagreement.”
“What should I treat it as?”
“A conspiracy.”
The word sounded dramatic until Dad explained what he had found.
Daniel had contacted three attorneys specializing in marital property disputes. He had searched for information about transferring company shares after a spouse’s death. He had also opened a private bank account six months earlier.
Dad’s old investigative contacts had helped him trace the activity legally through company records and information from my financial team.
“There’s more,” he said. “Daniel has been meeting with Victor Lang.”
Victor was a former executive at Bellamy Design whom I had fired for directing contracts to companies owned by his relatives.
“What does Victor have to do with this?”
“He has been telling investors that your health is unstable.”
I sat down.
“They’re preparing to remove me.”
“And possibly replace you.”
“With Daniel?”
“With someone Daniel can control.”
I thought about Margaret’s apology, Daniel’s hesitation, and the missing injector.
The attack in the sunroom had not been an isolated act.
It had been a test.
May you like
They wanted to see how easily my death could be explained.
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