Poisoned Again??

Calla's POV:

“You’re late,” Madden said, not looking up. He was leaning on the sleek black car.

I slid in beside him, smoothing my dress. My heart beat too fast as I smiled at him.i got a disapproving scowl in response.

“I want to make things right tonight,” I said quietly.

He finally looked at me—and laughed. “Shut up.” His voice was full of venom. “Just smile and lie like you always do.”

I looked away, swallowing the sting of his words as I got into the car. This isn't going to be easy and I can't let him consider divorcing me. I need Isadora’s body to survive and get back at my enemies.

I wonder what they're doing to my baby.

The car moved fast. The silence between us was worse than any insult. I kept glancing at him, nervously But all I saw was glass. Unforgiving, and cruel.

The driver pulled up in front of a grand venue, all marble arches and glowing chandeliers. Cameras flashed before we even stepped out.

He turned to me as he fixed his cufflinks. “Let’s keep up the act, okay?” he said under his breath. “It’s the only thing we’ve ever done convincingly.”

Then the door opened, and we stepped into the spotlight.

We walked the carpet like the golden couple everyone loved to hate. Flashes blinded me. I forced a smile so tight it hurt my face. He didn’t even bother. He was made for this world—harsh light and hollow smiles.

Then I saw him and I nearly screamed.

Lucas.

My body went rigid as blood drained from my face.

Lucas fucking Winthrop!

The name hit me like a hammer to the ribs. My murderer. My husband. My killer.

He stood across the ballroom, drink in hand, in a crisp navy suit that matched the lie in his eyes. Laughing as of he didn't just commit murder few hours ago.

He was supposed to be rotting.

I stopped walking. My voice came out strangled. “What’s he doing here?”

Beside me, Madden stiffened. “What?”

I pointed at him with a trembling finger. He followed my gaze and let out a bitter scoff.

“Oh. That.” He rolled his eyes. “ Isa , are you pissed about our potential investor now?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Try not to make a scene. Again.”

Lucas was the last face I saw as I bled on the floor.

Now he was here, sipping champagne and pretending to be civilized.

My knees buckled slightly, but I caught myself.

Madden leaned close with a cold smile for the cameras. “Fix your face, Isadora,” he muttered. “This party’s not about your latest emotional episode.”

But I wasn’t Isadora.

I was the woman that man murdered.

And he didn’t even know he was standing in front of his ghost.

I peeled away from Madden, letting the cameras catch the angle of my backless dress and diamond smile. People turned. I heard my name whispered like poison on their lips. Good, because I really don't care right now.

I was halfway across the ballroom, eyes locked on Lucas Winthrop. That smug bastard stood by the champagne fountain, laughing with a few other power suits like he didn’t have blood under his nails.

I could feel the rage blooming in my throat like fire but just then someone bumped into me, and I nearly staggered backwards

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” the woman gasped, stumbling back too. She held a delicate perfume atomizer, the kind used more for show than actual scent. A gentle spray misted across my collarbone before I could react.

“God, I didn’t mean—I'm so clumsy,” she said again. Her voice was soft, honeyed, maybe British.

Before I could blink, she dropped to her knees. On her fucking knees. Shit. Does everyone fear Isadora? I bit my lips, wondering what to do now.

“Please don’t be mad, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she murmured, reaching to brush a few droplets from my gown.. “I just... it’s my first event. I’m nobody. Please don’t have me removed, ma’am.

I stared at her. She was beautiful and elegantly dressed with striking red heels.

“It’s okay,” I said slowly, helping her up.

She stood, all grace and nerves, smiling. “Thank you. You’re so kind. Again, I’m sorry.”Then she vanished into the crowd. I blinked, a little disoriented. The perfume she’d sprayed was sweet, addictive—like candy and roses—and it lingered around me in a warm cloud. Something is weird about her.

My head felt a little light but there was no time to dwell on it. Not with Lucas standing just across the room.

I reached Lucas just as he handed someone a business card. “Lucas Winthrop,” I purred.

His eyes flicked with interest. He raked my dress, smiling. “Oh hey Mrs Blackwell."

“Investor? Oh, darling...” I tilted my head, voice sweet as syrup. “I could’ve sworn I saw your face in a mugshot once. No, wait—was it fraud or domestic abuse? I always get them confused with men like you.”

His face turned pale.

There was silence and then someone coughed making me smile wider. "Maybe you should tell your future partners about the women you bury before breakfast."

He blinked, startled, then recovered with a fake laugh. “Isadora, always a firecracker.”

I leaned closer, so only he could hear. “I remember everything, Lucas. Especially the way you left me bleeding like garbage on a cold floor.”

His face was drained of color.

And that’s when I saw the mic. The one on the podium nearby. I floated to it like I’d been invited to speak. Isadora already creates scenes and causes trouble, I don't mind continuing in her legacy– just this once.

Madden's voice behind me as he sensed my intentions: “Isadora, don’t you dare.”

I grabbed the mic.

“Thank you all for being here. I just want to raise a toast to someone very special tonight... a man I once trusted... until he let me die.”

Gasps erupted and Lucas paled.

I raised my glass. “To men who smile in suits and kill in the shadows. May karma never forget your address.”

I sipped from it. Cheers didn’t follow– I thought as much– but whispers did. Panic glimmered in Lucas’s eyes. I stepped off the stage with a smirk. The DJ kicked the music back on awkwardly.

Madden grabbed my arm, dragging me toward the dance floor. “What the hell was that?!”

“Performance art.” I smiled. “We’re keeping up the act, remember?”

“You’re insane.” Madden scoffed with utter hatred.

“Not yet.” I leaned into him, just enough to stir confusion in his eyes. “But I might be starting to enjoy this.”

And then Lucas approached. His smug smile was gone as he extended his hand. “May I cut in?”

Perfect.

I let Madden step back. Lucas took my waist—his palm felt like filth—and led me into a slow dance.

“What the hell are you doing?” he hissed.

I smiled. “Making memories.”

Then I leaned into his ear and whispered, “Do you ever think about the blood on your hands?”

“Because I do. I remember the sound of my skull cracking. The taste of iron. The moment you looked me in the eye… and let me die.”

His face twisted in horror and his breath caught. His arm froze where it wrapped around my waist. The look on his face was priceless. I'm sure right now he's disoriented as hell because how the hell would I know this?

He tried to keep smiling, the way liars do when the truth scrapes too close to the surface. “You’re insane,” he whispered through his teeth. “I don't know what sort of sick joke this is. We're potential partners… you can't…”

I tilted my head, smiling like sin. “Insanity is a luxury for the living. I already died once, remember?”

The color drained from his face and he let go of me immediately. Once he did, I felt a sharp pain in my chest.

My heartbeat stuttered and I blinked… slowly.

The ballroom lights turned hazy, like someone had smeared Vaseline across my eyes. My stomach twisted sharply, like a blade had curled inside it. I couldn't see well now.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

I stumbled slightly. Lucas gripped my arm harder. “What the hell—what are you pulling now?” he hissed but I couldn't say anything.

I tried to speak, but my tongue felt heavy. My fingers trembled as I reached for balance—but Lucas wasn’t supporting me anymore. He stepped back as I fell to the floor, dazed.

“What’s going on? Why are you pale—why the hell are you shaking like that?”

“Talk to me, damn it. Isadora, what did he do to you?!” I heard Madden's frantic scream..

Oh goodness.. what's happening to me. Am.. am I dying? What's going on now??

That's when I saw a flash it red and I blinked my eyes repeatedly to clear the fog. My eyes cleared briefly and I saw a woman. Slipping between the guests.

She was on red heels…

Oh my.. goodness… the woman I met earlier. She didn’t glance my way. She didn’t have to. She knew exactly what she’d done.

I was suddenly aware of Madden's body pressed against mine, he held my wrist, pressing it too tightly. “Hey. Look at me. Eyes on me. Not on him. Lucas—what the hell did you say to her?”

Lucas sounded lost, startled. “I didn’t—she just started acting weird—”

“You son of a bitch!” Madden surged forward, letting go of me like he’d punch him right there, but I started choking, and he grabbed me again. “Shit. Baby. Stay with me. Look at me. Say something.”

I whispered, weakly .“Red... heels…”

Madden frowned. “What?”

“Someone—someone poisoned me,” I breathed

. “Call for security!” he roared. “NOW!”

No… I can't die again. Why is this happening to me?