Chapter 109: Chapter One Hundred Eight
Not poured.
Not part of the original setup.
Kael’s eyes widened.
Kael: “Oh… crap.”
He reached for it—
And the lights flickered again.
Kael’s fingers hovered over the lone champagne flute, the one sitting just slightly apart from the others. It wasn’t glowing. It wasn’t bubbling ominously. It just felt wrong — out of place, like it had been set there in a hurry.
He muttered under his breath.
Kael: “Of course it’s the creepy one. Why wouldn’t it be.”
He reached for it—
And the lights flickered again, plunging the alcove into momentary darkness.
Riven and Lucien were mid‑interrogation, grilling Auron and Elena with equal intensity. The crowd had gathered in a loose circle, buzzing with theories, accusations, and dramatic gasps.
Riven strode toward the alcove with purpose, Lucien at his side. The crowd parted for them like they were royalty — or executioners.
Kael stood frozen, pointing at the suspicious glass like it might explode.
Kael: “There. That one. I think.”
Riven crouched beside it, examining the placement, the angle, the condensation.
Riven: “Someone put this here recently.”
Lucien nodded.
Lucien: “And not part of the original setup.”
Riven looked up at Kael.
Riven: “Good work.”
Kael blinked.
Kael: “Wait… really?”
Riven: “Don’t get used to it.”
Kael deflated.
Riven straightened, holding the champagne flute carefully between two fingers.
Riven: “This changes everything.”
Lucien crossed his arms.
Lucien: “We need to find who had access to the bar.”
Riven: “And who had motive to kill Isolde.”
Kael swallowed.
Kael: “So… everyone?”
Riven sighed.
Riven: “Yes. Everyone.”
Avery watched from across the room, her cards trembling again — but this time, she pushed the sensation down. Molly squeezed her hand, grounding her.
The game was reaching its final act.
And the masterminds were still hidden in the shadows.
Riven held the suspicious champagne flute between two fingers, studying it like it might reveal its secrets if he glared hard enough. Lucien stepped closer, lowering his voice so only Riven could hear, “We need to figure out what kind of poison was used, That’ll tell us who had access to it.” Riven nodded, slipping seamlessly into the role of the methodical detective, “Agreed. The doctor said the stab wound wouldn’t have been fatal. Poison changes the entire motive.”
Lucien’s eyes flicked toward the bar, “Let’s have it tested. Quietly. If the killer knows we’re onto the poison, they might panic.” Riven handed the glass off to the “lab tech” - a staff member in a white coat who whisked it away with dramatic urgency.
While Riven and Lucien coordinated the “testing,” Kael drifted toward the bar, muttering under his breath.
Kael: “Find the poisoned champagne, they said. Now find more clues, they said. I’m not even getting paid for this.”
He crouched behind the bar, scanning bottles, trays, and the floor for anything out of place.
A smudge on the counter.
A napkin folded strangely.
A cork that didn’t match the bottle it sat beside.
Kael frowned.
Kael: “Okay… that’s weird.”
He picked up the mismatched cork, turning it over in his fingers. It had a faint residue on the underside — something sticky, slightly discolored.
Kael: “Oh, this is definitely a clue. Or someone spilled jam. Hard to tell.”
He pocketed it anyway.
Meanwhile, Molly and Elena were having the time of their lives.
Elena had climbed onto a small decorative step, notebook in hand, addressing a cluster of guests like a scandal‑hungry prophet.
Elena: “Two deaths! Poisoned champagne! A forbidden affair! This is the most dramatic night in the history of this family!”
Guest: “Do you think the killer is still here?”
Elena: “Darling, the killer is always still here.”
Molly, beside her, was fanning the flames with gleeful precision.
Molly: “I heard Isolde was about to reveal a secret. Something huge. Maybe someone silenced her.”
Guest #2: “What kind of secret?”
Molly leaned in conspiratorially.
Molly: “Well… I shouldn’t say.”
Which, of course, meant she absolutely would.
Within minutes, the room was buzzing with theories so wild even Elena paused to blink.
Guest #3: “I heard Auron was secretly married.”
Guest #4: “I heard Isolde was running an underground gambling ring.”
Guest #5: “I heard the fortune teller predicted her own death!”
Avery, overhearing that last one, nearly choked.
Riven returned from sending off the champagne flute, rubbing his temples.
Riven: “This is spiraling.”
Lucien smirked.
Lucien: “You say that like it wasn’t already.”
Riven shot him a look.
Riven: “We need to narrow down suspects. Poison isn’t easy to get. Someone had access.”
Lucien nodded, scanning the room.
Lucien: “The bartender. The hostess. Anyone who handled the drinks. Anyone who had a reason to silence Isolde.”
Riven’s gaze sharpened.
Riven: “And anyone who reacted too strongly… or not strongly enough.”
Lucien’s eyes flicked toward Selene and Theron in the corner — whispering, watching, too calm.
Lucien: “I have a few ideas.”
Riven followed his gaze.
Riven: “So do I.”
Kael jogged back over, slightly out of breath, holding up the mismatched cork like a trophy.
Kael: “I found something.”
Riven raised a brow.
Riven: “Is it useful?”
Kael: “I don’t know. But it’s weird. And sticky.”
Lucien sighed.
Lucien: “Give it here.”
Kael handed it over, and Lucien examined it with surprising seriousness.
Lucien: “This… might actually be something.”
Kael puffed up proudly.
Kael: “See? I’m good at this.”
Riven patted his shoulder.
Riven: “Don’t get used to it.”
Kael deflated again.
The “lab tech” returned, breathless and dramatic, handing Riven a small folded card.
Riven unfolded it.
His brows shot up.
Riven: “Belladonna… and asp venom.”
Lucien let out a low whistle.
Lucien: “That’s not amateur work.”
Kael blinked.
Kael: “Asp venom? Like… Cleopatra asp venom?”
Riven: “Exactly like that.”
Lucien’s expression darkened.
Lucien: “Whoever did this had access to extremely rare toxins.”
Riven’s mind immediately began sorting through the guest list.
Sera, the bartender, had been pacing behind the bar, wringing her hands and repeating the same line over and over.
Sera: “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t do anything. I DID NOTHING.”
Riven approached her gently but firmly.
Riven: “Sera. Look at me.”
She froze, then slowly lifted her eyes.
Riven: “We’re not accusing you. But we need your help. You see everything behind this bar. Tell us what you noticed.”
Sera swallowed hard, then exhaled shakily.
Sera: “Okay… okay. I’ll tell you what I saw.”
Lucien stepped closer, listening intently.
Sera: “Auron was acting strange. Not like a grieving husband. He barely reacted when Isolde collapsed. He looked… annoyed.”
Lucien and Kael exchanged a sharp look.
Sera: “Theron too. He doesn’t fit in with this crowd. He’s been watching everyone like he’s waiting for something.”
Another look between Lucien and Kael — this one even sharper.
Sera: “And Selene… Isolde’s sister. She’s been tense all night. On edge. And she kept touching her wrist like she was checking something.”
Riven’s eyes narrowed.
Riven: “Her wrist?”
Sera: “Yes. Like she was making sure something was still there.”
Lucien stiffened.
Kael’s eyes widened.
Riven’s mind clicked.
Riven: “Selene… she’s the one who raises exotic snakes, isn’t she?”
Lucien nodded slowly.
Lucien: “Rare ones. Dangerous ones.”
Kael whispered under his breath.
Kael: “Asp venom…”
Riven exhaled.
Riven: “So she had access.”
Lucien added quietly:
Lucien: “And motive.”
Kael swallowed.
Kael: “And the knowledge to use it.”
The three men looked toward the far corner of the hall — where Selene and Theron stood whispering, watching the chaos unfold with unreadable expressions.
The investigation had just found its first real lead.