Chapter 4: The Second Bottle
Marcus stared into Vanessa's open handbag.
For one strange moment, the ballroom seemed to tilt around him. The chandeliers remained bright. The white cake still stood beneath its silver decorations. Somewhere near the stage, a musician quietly lowered his violin.
But Marcus could no longer recognize the woman standing in front of him.
There were two black bottles inside Vanessa's bag.
One lay beneath a folded silk scarf. The other was tucked into a small interior pocket beside her lipstick and compact mirror.
Both were nearly identical.
Both had black caps.
And neither had a visible label.
Marcus slowly lifted his eyes.
"Vanessa, what's that?""
Vanessa followed his gaze.
Her face changed instantly.
She snapped the handbag shut and pulled it against her body.
"Nothing.""
Marcus stared at her.
"Nothing?""
"It's a personal item.""
"Then you shouldn't mind telling me what it is.""
She took a step backward.
"Don't touch my things, Marcus.""
"I haven't touched anything.""
"You're looking through my handbag in front of everyone!""
"You left it open.""
"And that gives you permission to humiliate me?""
Marcus let out a short, disbelieving breath.
For months, Vanessa had called his home their home. She had chosen the flowers for the engagement celebration, selected the music, and insisted that the cake be made by a particular pastry chef.
She had even arranged the seating chart herself.
Now, standing beneath the same chandeliers, she was clutching her handbag as though it contained the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
Loretta moved closer.
"Vanessa, please put the bag on the table.""
Vanessa turned toward her.
"Absolutely not.""
"I'm not asking you to surrender your belongings. I'm asking you to help us understand what's happening.""
"You've already decided I'm guilty!""
Loretta's expression tightened.
"No. I have decided that my son nearly ate something you secretly poured onto his cake, and you have refused to explain it.""
A murmur traveled through the crowd.
Vanessa's eyes darted toward the guests.
"Everybody here knows how much I love Marcus.""
Nobody answered.
She turned back to him.
"Tell them, Marcus. Tell them how I stayed beside you when your company was struggling. Tell them how I supported you when everyone else thought you would fail.""
Marcus swallowed.
"I know what you've done for me.""
"Then trust me!""
"Trust isn't something you can demand while refusing to answer a question.""
Vanessa's lips parted.
For a second, she looked genuinely wounded.
Then her expression hardened.
"Fine. You want an explanation? The bottle contains a cleaning solution.""
Nia stiffened.
"A cleaning solution?""
Vanessa pointed at her.
"Yes. I was removing a stain from the cake decorations. The pastry chef had spilled something, and I didn't want to ruin the frosting.""
Marcus looked toward the enormous cake.
Then at the second bottle hidden inside the handbag.
"You poured cleaning solution onto the part of the cake I was about to eat?""
Vanessa hesitated.
"I didn't pour it onto the actual cake. I was testing something near the decorations.""
Nia shook her head.
"I watched you aim the bottle directly at the frosting.""
"You're a liar!""
Nia flinched, but she didn't retreat.
"I have the video.""
Vanessa spun toward Marcus.
"That video proves nothing about the contents. She could have edited it. She could have filmed something completely different and pretended it was tonight.""
"The timestamp is visible," Marcus replied.
"Then she could have changed that too!""
Marcus looked at her for a long moment.
"You're saying the video is fake?""
Vanessa's mouth tightened.
"I'm saying you shouldn't trust someone who has been trying to turn you against me.""
Nia lowered her eyes.
Marcus noticed.
He also noticed the way Vanessa kept one hand pressed over the handbag clasp.
"Nia," he said, "why were you filming her in the first place?""
Nia looked up slowly.
"Because I saw the bottle earlier, and something about the way she was holding it frightened me.""
"What happened?""
She took a breath.
"At about six o'clock, I was bringing fresh towels into the preparation room. Ms. Cole was standing beside the cake. She heard me coming and put the bottle away very quickly.""
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
"That proves nothing.""
Nia continued.
"Then she asked me whether the cake had already been cut.""
Marcus frowned.
"Why would she ask that?""
"I didn't know. I told her the chef hadn't started serving it yet. She asked whether you would be the first person to receive a slice.""
Vanessa's voice rose.
"Because it was his engagement celebration!""
"I thought that too," Nia said quietly.
"Until she told me to keep everyone away from the cake until she gave permission.""
Marcus looked at Vanessa.
"You controlled who could approach the cake?""
"I was coordinating the celebration!""
"Why?""
"Because someone had to make sure everything was perfect!""
The words came out so forcefully that several guests recoiled.
Vanessa pressed her lips together.
Then she turned toward Marcus and lowered her voice.
"Baby, please. We can still salvage this. Send the guests home.
Let your mother go upstairs. Let that woman finish her shift, and we can talk privately.""
Marcus stared at her.
"You want me to send everyone away?""
"Yes.""
"And then what?""
"I'll explain.""
"Why can't you explain now?""
Vanessa looked toward the ballroom doors again.
It was the third time Marcus had caught her doing it.
He followed her gaze.
Two security guards stood near the entrance. Beyond them, the corridor remained empty.
When he looked back, Vanessa was rubbing her thumb against the handbag clasp.
A tiny, repetitive movement.
She had done the same thing when Nia first produced the phone.
Marcus remembered it now.
He also remembered something else: Vanessa had insisted that the event photographer capture their first cake-cutting moment from a particular angle.
She had wanted him facing the windows, with the cake between them and the guests behind her.
He had assumed she wanted beautiful photographs.
But that angle would have placed the section of cake she had handled directly in front of him.
"Vanessa," he said slowly, "did you know I was going to eat that exact slice?""
Her face went blank.
Then she whispered, "You were always supposed to have the first slice.""
Marcus felt his stomach turn.
He looked toward the cake.
The remaining slices had not yet been cut. The serving plates sat in neat rows beside it, untouched.
A waiter quietly backed away from the table.
Loretta stepped beside her son.
"Marcus, we need to call the police.""
Vanessa's eyes widened.
"No!""
The word cracked through the ballroom.
Every head turned.
Vanessa appeared to realize what she'd done. She drew a shaky breath and tried to recover.
"No," she repeated more softly.
"Please. Think about what that would do to our families.""
Marcus looked at her.
"Then give me a reason not to.""
She stared at him, her fingers digging into the handbag.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then Nia spoke.
"Mr. Reed, there's another thing you need to know.""
Vanessa turned so quickly that her earrings swung against her neck.
"Don't you dare.""
Nia's face had gone pale.
She glanced at the second bottle, then at Marcus.
"When I saw that second bottle in her bag, I recognized the shape of it.""
Marcus waited.
May you like
Nia swallowed.
"Because it wasn't the first time I'd seen one like it in this house.""
