Chapter 174 Poison Truth

Chapter 174 Poison Truth
Cherry POV

I'm sprawled on the velvet chaise in our bedroom, my swollen feet propped on a cushion, the weight of my pregnancy making every movement a chore. Lately, I've been content to let Nicholas handle the endless stream of family affairs.

This morning started with a quiet victory—my surveillance on Russell officially kicked off. Lennie, still recovering but sharp as ever with tech, is handling the remote monitoring.

When I went to the hospital to install the surveillance equipment he requested, I even managed to slip away for a quick prenatal check-up—the doctor's sterile reassurances a brief reprieve from the darkness that clings to this house. Everything's fine, they say. Fine. As if anything in my world could be so simple

But now, as the afternoon shadows lengthen, I'm dragged into a confrontation I can't avoid. Eric storms into the drawing room, his face flushed with desperation, Nina and Vincent trailing behind like reluctant shadows. They've come to plead their case—again—about splitting from the family. Sophia, ever the regal matriarch despite her frailty, sits beside me, her gaze icy. Nicholas takes his place at my shoulder, fingers resting lightly on the back of my chair—a casual gesture that probably looks protective to them, possessive to me, and lethal to anyone who knows him.

"Eric," I start after hearing his request, my voice steady despite the flutter in my chest, "why the rush to bolt? Are you hiding something? Afraid to confess some dirty little secret?"

Eric's face flushes. "I didn't kill Zoe! How many times do I have to say it?"

"Then why the urgency?" Nicholas leans forward, fingers steepled. "Brother, you've been in this family for decades. Now, suddenly, you can't wait another day?"

Eric whirls on Nina and Vincent. "Tell them! Tell them you haven't done anything wrong either!"
Nina's mouth opens and closes. Her hands twist in her lap, wringing invisible water from the air. "I... I just want what's best for the family..."

"That's not what he asked," I cut in. "Have you done anything you're afraid we'll find out about?"

Vincent straightens from the wall. "Actually, I'm completely opposed to this separation bullshit. You leave the family, you lose all protection. You really want to be out there alone when half the city knows the Salvatore name?"

Nina snaps at him, her voice shrill. "And stay here to be hunted? Picked off one by one?" Her glare shifts to Eric, fueling the argument. Their voices overlap, a cacophony of accusations and fear, as they tear into each other. I exchange a glance with Nicholas, a silent agreement passing between us. We sit back, letting them unravel, watching the drama unfold like spectators at a grim play.

The shouting reaches a crescendo, and Vincent suddenly cuts through the noise, his tone venomous as he points at Nina. "You just don't want to be held accountable, do you? That's why you're pushing for this split!"

My pulse quickens. I lean in, eyes narrowing. "Accountable for what, Vincent?"

He hesitates. Nina's breathing turns rapid. "It's nothing. Vincent doesn't know what he's saying—"

Vincent's voice turns hard, disgusted. "You thought if you got far enough away, no one would bother to investigate, right? Now it's time everyone knows the truth."

"Vincent, please—" Nina reaches for her son.

He hesitates, Nina's desperate glare boring into him, but he barrels on. "She once told me she poisoned Sophia's supplements. Meant to kill her. But Donovan got the worst of it. He took most of the doses, and that's why he's gone." His words drop like a grenade, the room exploding into stunned silence.

Nina's face pales, her mouth opening in a futile gasp of denial. "That's a lie! I never—"

"Enough!" Nicholas's voice is a low growl, lethal and final. Sophia's frail hand tightens on her cane, her eyes burning with a fury I've rarely seen. I step closer, my own anger simmering. "You've got one chance to come clean, Nina. Don't make this worse."

Under the weight of our combined stares, she crumbles. Her voice breaks as she admits it—yes, she tampered with the supplements, yes, she meant to harm Sophia, but Donovan's death was a tragic miscalculation. Eric, wide-eyed and trembling, drops to his knees, babbling that he knew nothing, pleading for mercy.

The verdict comes swiftly. Eric, cowed into submission, drops his talk of splitting the family, vowing to stay quiet in his corner of the estate. Nina, the poisoner, is confined—locked away in a guarded wing, forbidden to step outside. Vincent, who knew but didn't act until now, escapes punishment, his confession balancing his silence.

But the revelation of the poison cuts deeper than all of us expected. Sophia, sitting silently through the sentencing, now looks smaller, her skin almost translucent. It explains her decline— she, too, ingested the tainted supplements, though in smaller doses. Day by day, it's finally taking over, and she's now incurable.

She meets my gaze, a sad smile tugging at her lips. "I'm not bitter, Cherry. My time is done. I only regret that I might not live to see her born."

Her words pierce me, a raw ache blooming in my chest. I reach for her hand, my fingers trembling, but there's nothing I can say to ease this quiet goodbye.

That night, as I lie beside Nicholas in our darkened bedroom, the day's absurdity replays in my mind. I shift closer, my head resting on his chest. "Today was a circus, wasn't it?" I murmur, a tired laugh escaping me. "But I've been thinking—Vincent. He's not perfect, but after my pregnancy, after Anthony's mess, and with Eric proving useless, Johnny is still drowning in grief over Laurel… I worry about you carrying this family alone. Let Vincent help with the business."

Nicholas exhales sharply, his arm tightening around me. "Not yet. I'll call on him when I can't hold the line myself. His head's not there, Cherry. I don't trust his judgment."

I nod. He hasn't forgotten Vincent's drunken mistake. I let the topic drop, though the weight of his burden lingers. Our conversation drifts, inevitably, back to Russell. "If he's the one behind all this," I say, tracing circles on his shirt, "why now? After six months of silence, he moves, but only to take out Zoe? She's hardly a player. It doesn't add up."

Nicholas's eyes narrow in thought. "My guess? He's got allies. They've been waiting for the right moment, but over the past six months, after watching me push the family toward legitimacy, they just can't sit still anymore."

I pause, considering. "So Zoe was just the opening move?"

"Could be. We need Russell or whoever behind to slip up, show their hand. Let's bait them into moving faster. Set a trap."

We're mid-strategy, plotting ways to corner Russell, when a sharp knock shatters the quiet. A maid's voice, trembling through the door, delivers the blow: "Sir, Madam—Mrs. Sophia—she's collapsed. She's vomiting blood..."