CHAPTER 417
Arianna lifted her eyes from the screen just as the waiter approached, silver tray in hand.
“Your drink, Mrs. King,” he said with a slight bow, offering the crystal glass.
She glanced down at the tray, then up at the server. Her smile was warm but unreadable as she accepted the drink with careful fingers.
“Oh, perfect,” she murmured. “I was just starting to feel thirsty.”
Harmony had drifted closer, lingering at the edge of a nearby column, her eyes fixed on Arianna with predatory focus. A smile crept across her lips, smug and sharp.
Just one sip.
That’s all it would take.
Arianna lifted the glass, her fingers tracing the stem with deliberate grace as she brought it close to her lips.
Harmony’s heart raced, her eyes never leaving the glass, her pulse quickening with each passing second.
Come on... come on...
Arianna brought the glass to her lips—but instead of drinking, she paused, turning it gently in her hand as if admiring the colour.
But just before the drink could touch her mouth, Arianna paused. Her gaze flicked up as if something had caught her attention in the crowd.
She gave a polite, almost absent wave to someone—a momentary distraction.
The glass lowered, the opportunity slipping away.
Harmony’s jaw locked.
Her nails dug into her palms.
Hurry up, you stupid cow.
Just drink it.
Arianna let out a soft laugh, as though sharing a private joke with herself, then brought the glass up again.
This time the rim touched her lips—
Harmony’s breath hitched, her whole body leaning forward with anticipation.
Now, already
Just do it
But again, Arianna stopped.
She tilted her head slightly, lowered the glass, and placed her other hand gently over her stomach. Her thumb moved in slow, deliberate circles against the fabric of her dress.
Then...
Her gaze swept the room now— searching.
Then Arianna’s gaze found her.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The air between them stretched thin as silk.
Arianna didn’t blink.
She didn’t look away.
She smiled—a quiet, haunting smile—and Harmony’s heart skipped a beat.
And then—bam.
“Ah! I’m so sorry!”
Rochelle, appearing out of nowhere, collided gently with Arianna’s side. The bump was subtle but perfectly timed, enough to knock the glass from her hand.
It all happened in slow motion.
The delicate crystal slipped from her fingers, tumbling off the tray. Arianna instinctively stepped back, her fingers reaching as if to catch it, but too late.
The glass hit the edge of the tray and tilted—its contents flinging through the air in a glistening arc.
It splashed—hard—into the lap of a startled guest nearby, who shouted and jumped back in alarm.
Gasps and laughter erupted around them. The waiter apologized profusely. Rochdale’s hand flew to her mouth.
“Oh no,” Arianna said, her voice light and casual, a perfect mask of poise.
“I’m so sorry,” she said to the guest, who was now looking down at their ruined outfit, eyes wide.
“Let me make it up to you.”
The guest, clearly startled, glanced at Arianna for a moment, then sighed.
“It’s all right, no harm done,” he said, brushing it off with a friendly smile.
“Oh God, Arianna, I didn’t see you—are you okay?” Rochelle fretted
Arianna blinked her expression, the perfect blend of surprise and apologetic.
“It's okay...I’m fine. It’s just a drink,” she said lightly, brushing a few droplets from her dress.
“No harm done.”
The words were smooth, casual—but Arianna’s eyes told a different story.
They slid to Harmony again, sharp and knowing.
Harmony’s heart lurched.
Her smile froze.
It was as if her eyes were saying:
Nice try.
The unspoken words slammed into Harmony like a cold wave, the edges of her thoughts fraying.
How did she know?
No—how could she know?
No...no, that's not possible.
Her eyes darted to Rochelle, then back to Arianna—who was still watching her, that infuriating smirk playing on her lips.
That look… that damn look.
It wasn’t suspicion. It was a certainty. As if Arianna had seen straight through her mask, peeled it off with nothing more than a flick of her gaze.
Harmony’s chest tightened, the air suddenly thick around her. Her fingers twitched at her sides, the fury boiling just beneath her skin.
She’d planned everything.
Every drop.
Every second.
Every move.
And Arianna—that glowing bitch—had slipped right through her fingers with nothing more than a smirk.
The man’s footsteps were silent as he approached, his presence a dark cloud hanging over Harmony’s shoulders. His voice, when it came, was cold and laced with venom.
“You’ve failed, Harmony,” he hissed, his voice like ice cutting through the tense air.
“I didn’t get you that vial for fun,” the man’s voice came again, closer this time, his breath hot against her ear.
“You promised me results,” he said, his voice a low, simmering threat.
“And yet… Mrs. King is still very much alive. No dead bride, no grieving groom, no wedding. Which means no payout for you.”
He took a slow step closer, invading her space, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous.
“That sounds like a serious problem to me, Harmony.” He let the word problem hang in the air, heavy with implication.
“And you know how I deal with problems… I erase them.”
His hand brushed her wrist—not hard, but firm enough to make her flinch.
Harmony’s pulse pounded in her ears, but she didn’t back away. Her fists curled at her sides, jaw clenched so tight it hurt.
“I failed once,” she hissed, barely above a whisper.
“But I won’t fail again.”
Her voice shook with rage, not fear. She turned her head just enough to meet his eyes, her own burning with desperate determination.
“I will become Mrs. King. And you’ll get every damn cent I owe you.”
He studied her for a beat—silent, unreadable—before a slow, cruel smile curled across his lips.
“One more chance,” he said softly, but the softness was a lie. It was the calm before the storm.
“That’s all you get.”
His eyes darkened, his tone dropping to something that felt like a death sentence.
“Because after this… if you fail me again, Harmony—I won’t be coming to talk. I’ll be coming to collect.”
He stepped back, gaze still locked on hers.
“Make it happen. Or start saying your goodbyes.”
Her hands trembled at her sides, but she forced them into fists, nails digging into her palms.
Every nerve in her body was screaming, but she held it in.
Not now.
“She’ll leave here in a body bag tonight,”
Harmony hissed, her voice low and trembling—not with fear, but with a volatile, fraying rage.
“I promise you that.”
Her eyes were wild now, gleaming with a manic determination that bordered on madness.
She wasn’t pleading.
She wasn’t negotiating.
She was vowing it like a curse.
“I failed once,” she growled, her breath ragged as she took a step forward, fists clenched so tight her nails bit into her palms.
“But I won’t fail again.”
A twisted smile tugged at her lips, too sharp, too forced.
“I’ll rip the crown off her head myself if I have to.”
The man stood still for a moment, his expression unreadable, as if studying her. He didn’t flinch at her venomous words or the fire burning in her eyes.
Slowly, a dark smile crept across his lips, the edges of his mouth twitching with cold amusement.
“Well, well,” he muttered, his voice dripping with a quiet menace.
“I like that fire.”
He took a deliberate step closer, his presence suffocating, the air between them thick with tension.
“You better be sure,” he warned, his voice low, his gaze cutting through her like a blade.
“Because if you fail again... you won’t get a third chance. You’ll be the one in that body bag next.”
Harmony’s chest heaved with a mix of fury and frantic energy. She nodded, eyes gleaming, teeth gritted.
“Leave her to me,” she spat, her words tight and venomous.
“I’ll finish this. I’ll make sure she never sees tomorrow.”
He smirked, turning to leave, but paused just before he disappeared into the shadows.
“Don’t disappoint me, Harmony,” he said, his tone a promise and a threat in one.
“I will become Mrs. King,” she spat, her voice dripping with venom.
“And you’ll get every damn cent I owe you. Just stay patient. Trust me. I’m not going to let this slip through my fingers.”
.........
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