Chapter 4 - The Bitter Coffee
Daniel stared at the life insurance document until the words blurred together.
His beautiful, charming fiancée was actively planning his funeral.
"Why are you pretending to be sick, Mr. Whitfield?" Grace asked quietly from the other side of the desk.
Daniel looked at the maid, realizing she was the only person in the world he could actually trust.
"She called someone the day I fell," Daniel confessed.
"I need to know exactly how far she is willing to go to take my company."
Grace looked down at her hands, taking a slow, deep breath.
"You are in terrible danger in this house," she warned him.
The next morning, Vanessa walked into the master bedroom carrying a silver tray.
She placed a steaming cup of dark coffee on the nightstand right next to Daniel's head.
"Drink your coffee, darling," Vanessa smiled sweetly.
"It will help clear the fog in your poor brain."
She kissed his cheek and walked into the massive walk-in closet to select her outfit for the day.
Daniel reached for the warm porcelain cup, pretending to be grateful for her care.
Suddenly, a small hand shot out from the hallway and grabbed his wrist.
Grace was standing just out of Vanessa's line of sight, shaking her head frantically.
She silently pulled the cup of coffee away from him and poured it directly into a potted plant near the door.
She quickly handed Daniel an identical cup of plain black coffee from her cleaning cart.
When Vanessa emerged from the closet, Daniel was sipping safely from the second cup.
Vanessa smiled in satisfaction and left the mansion to go shopping with her socialite friends.
Daniel immediately found Grace in the kitchen and demanded to know what was wrong with the first drink.
Grace reached into the deep pocket of her apron.
She pulled out a small, transparent plastic capsule that had been crushed open.
"I found this hidden at the bottom of the kitchen sink," Grace explained.
"It is a highly concentrated, prescription-grade blood thinner."
Daniel felt the blood drain entirely from his face.
"If you had taken this, a simple bump to the head would cause a massive, unstoppable brain hemorrhage," Grace whispered.
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His supposed accidental fall on the marble floor had not been an accident at all.
Vanessa had deliberately polished that exact section of the floor with a slick industrial wax just hours before he tripped.
