Chapter 3 - The Last Supper
Saturday night arrived with the oppressive, heavy humidity of a dying summer storm. The dining room table was set with fine bone china, heavy silver, and flickering beeswax candles that cast long, dramatic shadows across the paneled walls. A bottle of expensive vintage Cabernet Sauvignon—a rare 2015 Bordeaux Christopher had specifically requested—sat uncorked in the center of the table, breathing.
Christopher was dressed impeccably in a charcoal blazer, looking every bit the grieving, devoted husband preparing for a tragedy he had already scheduled in his mind.
“Toby couldn’t make it after all, Chris,” I said softly as I walked into the dining room wearing a emerald green silk dress that had belonged to my mother. “He called an hour ago. Said his college midterm project ran late, and he had to stay on campus.”
A flash of genuine, unadulterated relief crossed Christopher’s face before he quickly masked it with a heavy sigh of disappointment.
Good, his expression seemed to say. One less witness.
“That’s a shame, honey,” Christopher murmured, walking over to pour a generous glass of the deep red wine. He handled the bottle with meticulous care, his fingers lingering near the rim of my glass for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. “Family dinners just aren’t the same without him. But we’ll manage. Tonight is about us. Just you and me, reconnecting.”
He handed me the glass. I took it, holding it steady by the stem, my eyes locked directly onto his.
“To us, Chris,” I said evenly. “May all our secrets finally come to light.”
Christopher hesitated, a strange shadow crossing his features at my choice of words, but he clinked his glass against mine with a confident smile. “To us, Gwen. Forever.”
We sat down. The dinner proceeded in an eerie, surreal ballet of domestic normality. Christopher talked about market projections, upcoming corporate mergers, and how much he loved me, weaving a web of affectionate lies so thick it felt suffocating. Yet, as the minutes ticked by, I noticed how frequently his eyes drifted toward my wineglass. He hadn’t taken a single sip of his own poured glass; instead, he nursed a glass of sparkling water with lemon.
“You’re not drinking your wine, Chris,” I noted, gesturing toward his untouched goblet.
“Ah, you know me, Gwen. I have an early morning flight to Chicago on Monday for the merger talks. Need a clear head,” he lied smoothly, cutting into his steak with clinical precision. “Drink up, honey. You look tense. That wine will help you relax.”
Relax permanently.
I smiled, setting my wineglass down on the table without taking a single drop. “You know, speaking of clear heads, Chris... I think it’s time we cleared up a few things about our financial future.”
Christopher paused, his knife hovering over his plate. “What are you talking about?”
“Let’s talk about Arthur Sterling,” I said softly.
The temperature in the dining room dropped twenty degrees instantly. The color vanished from Christopher’s face, leaving him looking like a corpse under the flickering candlelight. The charm vanished, replaced in a split second by a cold, feral panic.
“What did you say?” he whispered, his voice dropping into a dangerous, gravelly register.
“I said Arthur Sterling,” I repeated, leaning back in my chair and crossing my legs with absolute composure. “The insurance broker handling those lovely $24 million policies you took out on my life. Tell me, Chris, did you really think I wouldn't notice my own digital signature being forged on trust documents while you were drowning in private loan shark debt?”
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Christopher stared at me, his chest heaving as he realized the game was up. The mask was completely gone. The devoted husband had vanished, leaving only a cornered predator staring across the table at the woman he had tried to slaughter in her bed.
“You...” Christopher hissed, slowly pushing his chair back from the table with a harsh scraping sound against the hardwood floor. His hand slipped into the deep pocket of his blazer. “You clever, paranoid bitch. You should have just stayed quiet and drank the wine.”
