Poison: Two Can Ruin

ANNA POV“I brought the champagne,” I say into the empty marble foyer. Silence answers me. The heavy oak doors of the Voss estate echo as I snap them shut behind my heels, my fingers clutching the chilled bottle of Dom Pérignon. I cut my London PR trip short by twelve hours, taking an earlier flight across the Atlantic just to surprise Jack for our third anniversary. “Jack?” I call out again, stepping deeper into the ground floor. The main house is dead quiet. My father is away in Dubai on business, leaving the sprawling glass-and-stone compound largely deserted for the weekend. I kick off my heels by the threshold, my toes sinking into the plush Persian runner as I head toward the rear floor-to-ceiling glass doors. Then I hear it. A faint, muffled laugh carries across the central lawn. It isn't coming from the main house—it’s coming from the guest pool house near the edge of the gardens. I frown, setting my designer leather tote on the kitchen counter while keeping my grip on t

ANNA POV“I want every bank transfer, every hotel record, and every location log from the last six months,” I say, sliding the envelope of cash across the diner table. The private investigator doesn’t touch the money right away. He slides a black flash drive and a thick manila folder toward me instead. “You don’t need to wait six months, Ms. Voss,” the investigator says flatly. “I ran your boyfriend’s personal accounts and checked the surveillance feeds from the St. Regis downtown. The paper trail was ridiculously easy to follow.” My hands shake as I pull the high-resolution glossy photographs out of the folder. The first photo shows Jack pushing Mary against the headboard of a suite, his fingers tangled in her dark hair. The second photo shows them inside a high-end jewelry boutique on Fifth Avenue. Jack is leaning over her shoulder, fastening a diamond pendant necklace around her neck while Mary laughs into his jaw. “He bought her the necklace three days before your anniversary

ANNA POV“Stop looking at me,” I say, staring straight through the rain-streaked windshield.Peter doesn’t reply. He spins the SUV’s steering wheel with one hand, pulling off the curb outside the hotel and onto the highway. The morning light is gray, washing over his sharp jawline and the heavy silence between us. My chest hurts, my lips swollen and tender, my skin still burning from the memory of his hands in the dark.“I said stop,” I repeat, my voice cutting through the hum of the engine.“I’m looking at the road, Anna,” Peter says flatly, his tone cold, clinical, and completely devoid of the violence from three hours ago. “Adjust your collar. Your neck is bruised.”My fingers snap up to my shirt, pulling the fabric tight against my throat as shame claws at my chest. I don’t regret making him touch me, but the sheer coldness in his voice makes my breath hitch.“You can drop me off at the boathouse,” I say, looking away. “I’m not going back into the main house while Jack is there.”

PETER POV“Move your foot,” I whisper, tension tight in my chest.The metal picks in my hand click sharply against the brass cylinder of the back door to Jack’s architecture firm. Anna shifts behind me in her black leggings and oversized hoodie, her breath coming in quick, shallow puffs against the back of my neck.“How much longer?” Anna whispers, her voice trembling. “The streetlights are right above us, Peter. If security drives past, we’re dead.”“Ten seconds,” I reply, my fingers moving with methodical precision until the lock gives way with a muted snap.I push the heavy door open, grabbing her forearm to pull her into the dark hallway before slipping inside behind her.“We have eighteen minutes before the night cleaning crew starts on this floor,” I say, stepping past the front desk directly toward Jack’s private office. “Search the lockbox behind the blue blueprints. I need the original consulting agreement between Jack and my father.”“Okay,” Anna mutters, her hands shaking a

ANNA POV“Take the flowers, Anna,” Jack says, his voice soft, pleading, and entirely too close to my face in the crowded lobby of Voss International. “Two dozen white roses. They’re your favorite. Just give me five minutes in the courtyard to explain everything before the board meeting starts.”I freeze beside the elevator doors, my fingers locking tight around my leather briefcase. Dozens of corporate executives in sharp suits filter past us toward the turnstiles, forcing me to keep my posture composed so I don't cause a scene on the trading floor.“Don’t touch me, Jack,” I whisper, taking a step back until my spine hits the cold brass trim of the elevator wall.“I had to do it,” Jack insists, his hand reaching out to touch my cheek, his fingers sliding along my skin with the familiar warmth I trusted for two whole years. “Mary backed me into a corner. I never stopped loving you, Anna. You have to believe me.”I hesitate, my heart slamming violently against my ribs as shock and nause