Sister Wine Glass Novels & Stories

"The starting bid for this set of wine glasses is 30,000 Lirons. Let the bidding begin." Then, Tabitha cried out, "50,000!" Aria said calmly, "60,000." "70,000." "80,000." Tabitha then raised her paddle. "150,000!" The venue erupted into an uproar. "This set of wine glasses is worth 50,000 Lirons, at most. I never thought it would go for 150,000 Lirons!" "Didn't you notice? Those two women are the only ones bidding on it from the beginning. They're clearly rivals."

My shoes made no sound on the thick rug. I reached out and picked up the heavy crystal decanter. The glass felt freezing against my palm. I tipped it slowly. The deep red moonberry wine hit the bottom of the clean glass with a soft hiss. I filled it right to the brim. I lifted the glass. The liquid shifted, dark and heavy like blood. I carried it over to her table. Marcella’s mouth curled into a triumphant smile. She did not look at my face. She only looked at the wine.

**Bella’s POV** The stem of the wine glass was cool between my fingers, slender and delicate, yet strong enough to hold the weight of the deep crimson liquid inside. I rolled it slowly between my fingertips, watching the way the firelight curled around the glass, bending in ribbons across the smooth surface. The wine caught the glow in ripples of blood-red and for a moment, I just admired it, mesmerized by its stillness before the swirl. Smiles were for warmth, for kindness, for fools who thought such things had a place in this world. What I felt was a private acknowledgment of victory, the kind you didn’t share but savored like the last bite of something expensive.

The atmosphere in the living room shifted as my mother went to the small table in the corner where the wine was stored. She pulled out a beautiful crystal decanter and poured the ruby-red liquid into three elegant glasses. The clinking of the crystal was sharp against the quiet room, a sound that seemed to echo loudly in my ears.

No more worrying about who might be the killer. But all I felt was cold. --- At noon, I finally stood up. My legs were stiff, my back aching from sitting on the hard floor. I walked to the window and looked out at the campus. Students crossed the quad in groups, laughing, talking, holding hands. The lake glittered in the distance, blue and calm and innocent. The lake where my sister died. The lake where someone held her under until she stopped fighting. I pressed my palm to the glass. "I'm sorry, Alice," I whispered. "I'm sorry I couldn't do this alone."

This was the first time that Caellum struck up a conversation with her, and she replied so naturally without blushing. While they both continue berating Celia and Gabriel, Caellum reached for the wine bottle on the center table and poured some wine into the glass on the table. I frowned when I noticed what he was doing. He poured the wine and took the glass from the table before moving back to his previous position. A sly smile crept on my lips while I continued sipping the wine. My brother was a neat freak. Would he notice that lipstick stain on the rim of the glass?

“Coming right up!” Evee sings happily, her voice carrying across the diner like a bell, bright and teasing. She scoops up five large wine glasses from the back, balancing them expertly on a serving tray. I skate behind her, careful not to slip on some wet streaks, and grab one of our darkest, richest bottles of red wine. It’s just under room temperature, perfect for pouring. My fingers curl around the bottle opener, its odd shape catching the dim light, a strange little detail I always notice.

He rummaged through the kitchen cabinets and found a couple of elegant wine glasses with opaque, etched designs. Carefully, he transferred the wine from the highball glasses into the new wine glasses. The opaque designs added a touch of sophistication and obscured the contents, making it less apparent what they were drinking. Satisfied with the switch, he placed the wine bottle and the new glasses on a tray and carried them back to the leather couch, where Amaya was waiting. He sat down beside her, offering her a glass with a subtle smile. "I thought we might enjoy the wine in these beautiful glasses instead. It adds a touch of elegance, don't you think?"

She poured out from the content of the wine into the wineglass. "Sylvia you can have it, it's a token of my thank you for making out time to be present here at my party. This is what I do to all my friends who attended the show.." she said formally extending the glass of champagne over to me. I looked at the girls behind her, the looks on their face was so black and firebrick, I turned to face her, and the kind of smile she was giving me was so wry. I was just staring at the glass on her hand and her face puzzled...

They hand each of us two glasses—one with red wine and the other with white. I pause. I know how wine is drunk… kind of. But I don’t want to make a fool of myself. So I glance at the royal siblings. They gently swirl their glasses, sniff the wine, then sip slowly. And I copy them. The red wine is rich and deep, while the white wine is refreshing and light. Each time I finish a glass, a winemaker appears and refills it. I nod politely, not wanting to seem rude. But after a while, Monique lets out a sharp laugh.