Chapter 2 - The Secret Delivery
I stood frozen in the center of his office as Evelyn's terrifying words echoed through the phone speaker.
My own husband had carefully orchestrated a plan to destroy my entire life and steal everything I owned.
I took a deep breath and told Evelyn that Marcus was hosting his fortieth birthday dinner tonight with all of his executives.
Evelyn immediately understood my unspoken plan and promised to send her elite crisis team to my house within the hour.
I hung up the phone and walked into the massive gourmet kitchen that Marcus expected me to be working in.
I did not touch a single pot, pan, or expensive kitchen knife.
Instead, I poured myself a hot cup of tea and waited patiently by the front window.
A sleek black delivery van pulled into my long driveway exactly forty-five minutes later.
Four men and two women wearing professional catering uniforms stepped out of the vehicle carrying large silver equipment cases.
They looked exactly like a high-end culinary team hired to prepare a luxury birthday feast.
The lead caterer walked up to my front door and introduced himself as David, Evelyn's top private investigator and tech specialist.
David and his team immediately went to work, but they were not chopping vegetables or marinating steaks.
They were carefully installing microscopic, high-definition hidden cameras inside the floral centerpieces on the dining room table.
They placed a highly sensitive audio transmitter directly beneath the expensive leather chair where Marcus always sat at the head of the table.
I watched them turn my elegant dining room into a flawless surveillance trap designed to capture every single word spoken tonight.
My cell phone suddenly vibrated on the marble kitchen island, displaying a text message from Marcus.
He demanded to know if the expensive imported beef had been properly seasoned yet.
I typed back a cheerful reply assuring him that tonight's dinner would be the most incredible experience of his entire life.
David approached me with a sleek electronic tablet displaying the crystal-clear video feeds from the dining room.
He handed me a small wireless earpiece and told me to keep it hidden beneath my long hair during the party.
David promised that his team would be parked in the surveillance van down the street, recording every second of the dinner.
I thanked him for his help, feeling a profound sense of dangerous empowerment wash over me.
Just as David turned to leave through the back door, he paused and looked at me with a grim expression.
He pulled a glossy photograph from his jacket pocket and placed it face down on the kitchen counter.
David told me that his team had intercepted a disturbing email Marcus sent from his office computer twenty minutes ago.
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I flipped the photograph over and saw a picture of a deadly, untraceable liquid toxin in a small glass vial.
David warned me that Marcus had just purchased this exact poison on the black market, and it was being delivered to him before the dinner party.
