Chapter 1812:


    Christina swirled the wine in her ss slowly. Her smile was easy and unhurried; her eyes were not.


    “I’m not one to hold grudges forever. Consider it forgotten,” she said. “It’s a significant evening for the Wades and the Hewitts — let’s keep things light.” She said it pleasantly, and she meant none of it. Christina did not forget betrayals. She simply chose when to act on them, and she never confused patience with forgiveness.


    Irene’s pulse jumped with barely concealed triumph. She had actually believed it would be that easy.


    “Then let’s drink to friendship!” she said brightly, lifting her ss. She clinked it against Christina’s and drained hers in one go.


    “Cheers,” Christina replied with a polished smile, and finished her own drink.


    Irene quickly gged down a passing waiter, who materialized with a tray bearing two fresh sses of red wine. She snatched one up and pressed it into Christina’s hand with barely restrained eagerness.


    “I’m so d there are no hard feelings, Miss Jones. From now on, I’m on your side — whatever you need,” Irene said.


    Christina raised an eyebrow and epted the ss. She brought it close and, under the guise of simply admiring the color, drew a quiet, measured breath. Her senses were sharp, and what she detected in the wine took only a moment to register.


    Something had been added to it. Something that had no business being there.


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    Irene lifted the second ss of red wine, a practiced smile fixed on her face. “To new beginnings,” she said, tapping her ss softly against Christina’s.


    “One moment,” Christina said, reaching out to stop her before she could drink.


    “Is something wrong, Miss Jones?” Irene’s heart lurched. She forced herself to stay still, terrified that Christina had somehow sensed the wine was tampered with.


    “Let’s trade. I’d prefer your ss,” Christina said, calmly making the switch.


    Irene didn’t resist. Violette had already warned her that Christina was sharp and would almost certainly be suspicious of anything handed to her directly. To ount for this, they had drugged both sses — it wouldn’t matter which one Christina ended up with. Irene watched her take the switched ss and felt a quiet rush of confidence. Christina was doing exactly what they had anticipated.


    What Irene didn’t know was that Violette had a separate n for her as well. Once the drug in Irene’s ss took effect, Violette intended to lock her in a room with Alban, who would already be intoxicated. Even if Alban refused to cooperate, the scandal alone would be valuable — the Martel family would pay a considerable sum to keep things quiet, enough to secure afortable life. And if things went further, there was always the possibility of a pregnancy, which would give the family little choice but to force a marriage.


    Irene had epted all of it. The promise of wealth and status was enough to make the risk feel worthwhile. She let herself imagine the life waiting for her, and the smile she wore grew a shade brighter.


    “Cheers!” she said, her voice carrying a faint tremor of excitement she couldn’t quite suppress.


    Christina was not fooled. She already knew the ss in her hand had been drugged just as thoroughly as the first. The trap had been constructed carefully, with no apparent exit. She acknowledged that, in a detached sort of way, and smiled.


    “Cheers,” she said pleasantly, touching her ss to Irene’s without drinking a drop. She simply watched Irene over the rim, her expression perfectlyposed.


    To put Christina at ease, Irene drained her own ss in one smooth motion, then tilted her head with an air of innocence. “Miss Jones, you haven’t touched yours yet.”


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