POISON IN THE EMERALD HALLS

""Victor,"" the faint whisper lingered in Julian's mind like a venomous sting before Clara's eyelids fell shut. Her hand dropped limp against the carpet runner.

Julian’s throat constricted. Victor was his elder brother—declared dead in an offshore accident three years ago, the very tragedy that had propelled Julian into the presidency of the family conglomerate and led to his marriage of duty to Clara. Why would Clara utter Victor’s name while choking on poison forced upon her by his own mother?

The estate echoed with the screeching tires of the private medical team Julian had summoned directly via his personal emergency line. Within moments, paramedics flooded the hall, barking vitals, setting up an oxygen mask, and preparing an antidote kit. Julian felt detached from his own limbs as he was pushed aside by frantic professionals working to stabilize Clara's faltering heart.

He stood slowly, his stature towering over the chaos. In his palm rested the scrap of paper Clara had passed him. Concealing it inside his pocket, his gaze locked onto Eleanor. She stood by the classical bust of the family patriarch, her expression masked behind her usual aristocratic poise, though her fingers still clutched the silver cup hidden within the folds of her dress.

""Give me the cup, Mother,"" Julian commanded, his voice dead and menacing.

""Julian, do not let hysteria guide you,"" Eleanor replied smoothly, chin lifted high. ""Clara was hysterical. She was suffering a nervous breakdown. I was administering her prescribed sedative. The girl threw a violent fit, overturned her chair, and spilled it.""

Lin stepped forward from behind the paramedics, her face flushed with fury. ""That is a lie! Madame Eleanor brought that cup from the private study, not the medical cabinet! She threatened Clara! She said Clara would take her secrets to the grave!""

Eleanor’s gaze turned razor-sharp. ""Silence yourself, girl, or you will find yourself in a cell for slander.""

Julian ignored his mother's glare and walked directly to her, extending his open hand. Eleanor hesitated, seeing the ruthless determination in her son’s eyes, before slowly surrendering the small silver vessel. Julian brought it toward his face. The faint, sweet smell of bitter almond rose from the residue at the bottom.