She turned back toward me, holding two glasses. “Well then, let’s toast again. This time to parting as old friends.”
It amused me that she genuinely thought I hadn’t noticed her slipping poison into my drink.
CHAPTER 47
SKYLAR
My gaze fixed on the crystal glass in his hand. The amber liquid caught the firelight. It looked like any other brandy.
Was I seriously going to go through with this? I'd hoped that Pierce would give me another option. That he would finally give me what I needed.
If he had, I would've confessed everything to him.
I would have given him everything. Including his brother.
But he chose her over me.
My grip tightened around my own glass. The crystal bit into my palm.
I didn't know what was in the vial Jameson gave to me. I hadn't asked.
Part of me hoped it would be over quickly. Pierce may have been a bastard, but he didn't deserve a gruesome death.
Would the coroner even test for poison? I had no idea.
Pierce, with his usual air of confidence, raised the glass to his lips.
I cleared my throat.
He paused and cut his eyes to mine.
I cleared my throat again. “Pierce, I?—”
He raised one inquisitive eyebrow and lowered the glass an inch.
Just an inch.
“Do you remember the very first time we sat here, together?”
A smirk played at the corner of his lips. “Of course, Skylar. It’s hard to forget such moments.” He swirled the brandy once, studying me over the rim. “Why bring it up now?”
He knew something was wrong. He had to.
The old warmth in his voice turned my stomach. I’d forgotten he could still sound like that. Like the man I’d planned to marry.
I kept my eyes on his face and not the glass.
He raised it again.
“Do you ever think about how different things could have been?” The words tumbled out, desperate. Anything to keep him talking.
Pierce studied me. The silence stretched. “You’re being nostalgic tonight.” He tilted his head. “That’s not like you, Skylar.”
“Humor me.”
He held my gaze a beat too long before he drank.
The first sip.
