Chapter 4

Our eyes met.

The tension, just beginning to ease, instantly froze.

A waiter materialized to thaw the frost. “Your private dining room is ready.”

Valda claimed Antonio’s flank like a conquistador planting a flag.

I glanced at her, said nothing, and took a seat across from him.

Cigar smoke choked the air within minutes. I fled to the hallway frescoes.

But Antonio followed behind me.

“I didn’t forget our anniversary.”

His grip bit my wrist.

“This team dinner is your gift.”

His panic smelled like overpriced cologne. My laughter startled us both.

“I’m not mad. Don’t overthink it.”

I turned and walked toward the restroom at the end of the corridor.

Splashing cold water on my face, I felt more alert.

When I returned to the private room, a new female employee was busy toasting Antonio.

At the sound of footsteps and the awkward silence around

the table, she slowly turned her head to face me.

“Oh, Grace! I was just-”

The girl scrambled up, wine sloshing on the tablecloth.

Before I could speak, Valda waved her hand airily.

“Grace’s not some insecure twenty–year–old! Tony always says

how mature she is.

“Otherwise, why would he give me an advance on my birthday bonus? My friends are so envious they want to quit their jobs and join our company!”

She winked at me playfully.

The room was suddenly filled with sharp intakes of breath.

Chad’s whiskey sour halted mid–sip.

In the past, he could subtly cover for Antonio.

But today, the blade gleamed. It was time to sheath or strike.

I reclaimed my chair through the girl’s stammered apologie~.

Valda smiled, walking towards me with wine.

“To the woman behind the man! But darling, maybe lay off the sweatpants?”

She pointedly glanced at my casual outfit.

“I don’t drink alcohol. I’ll have water instead,” I said coolly.

Antonio’s knife cracked against the table.

“You don’t drink? What kind of joke is this, Grace? Is this your idea of not being mad? This isn’t the place for your tantrums.”

Valda ignored me and filled my glass with wine.

I pressed my lips together, suppressing my anger, and said, “I said I can’t drink today. I’m still on medication.”

Valda forced the shot glass into my palm.

“One sip won’t kill-”

The liquor arced in slow motion, drenching her décolletage.

Clear sounds rang out.

Blood jeweled her instep.

The room fell silent.

Antonio vaulted up, tableware clattering.

He shot to his feet, slamming his knife on the table.

“You’ve crossed the fucking line!”

“Valda has already apologized!”

Valda’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.

I felt a cold smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

“Apology? Which word was an apology? Are my ears playing tricks, on me, or is your brain addled?”

Infuriated by my nonchalant attitude, Antonio roared, “Don’t you understand human speech? I’ll toast you myself!”

Before anyone could react, he grabbed my neck, forced my head back, and poured the wine from his glass down my throat.

I was caught off guard and coughed violently from the strong liquor.

Tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision as Antonio lifted Valda into his arms.

In a fit of anger, he threatened, “Apologies to Valda right now, or we’ll get a divorce! I can’t stand your madness for a minute!”

Just as everyone braced for a scene, I came to and nodded, my face flushed.

“Fine, let’s get a divorce then.”

Antonio was stunned into immobility.

I grabbed my coat, draped it over my shoulders, and left, but suddenly felt dizzy and collapsed to the side.

A pool of crimson liquid spread beneath me.