The Sommelier Shattered the Crime Boss’s Glass and Uncovered the Bride Who Had Planned His Funeral

The grand ballroom of Glasswood Hall was quiet, but it was not empty.

Two dozen people remained inside the locked room: Hector Calder, an elderly man with silver hair and the predatory eyes of a vulture; four corrupt board members of the Harbor Crown Consortium; and Livia Calder, who had traded her torn silver gown for a mourning dress of immaculate black lace.

On the central mahogany table lay the succession charter—a document that would transfer all operational command of Harbor Crown to Livia Calder as the sole surviving beneficiary in the event of Adrian Kessler's sudden demise.

"Sign the documents, Hector," one of the board members urged, nervously adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses. "If the police arrive before we file the emergency probate motion, the assets will be frozen by the state."

"The police are not coming," Hector said calmly, sipping a glass of brandy. "The precinct captain is on our payroll. Livia, where is Julian? He should have confirmed the body by now."

Livia stood near the grand fireplace, holding a slender glass of champagne. Her face was serene, triumphant. "Julian is being thorough, Father. Adrian was a stubborn beast. He probably crawled into some hole in the cellar to die. It doesn't matter. The doctor I brought in has already signed the provisional death certificate. Acute cardiac arrest brought on by congenital failure."

"A tragic loss," Hector smiled thinly. "Sign the paper, darling."

Livia picked up the heavy gold fountain pen, resting the nib on the signature line.

Suddenly, the heavy double doors at the back of the ballroom creaked open.

Every head in the room snapped around.

A woman walked into the room.

It was Mara Ellison.

She pushed a pristine silver serving cart across the polished marble floor. On the cart sat an antique crystal decanter filled with dark, glistening red wine, accompanied by two clean glasses. Her hair was pulled back into a neat, professional knot, and though her uniform vest was stained with dark liquid, she walked with the regal, unhurried poise of a queen entering a banquet hall.

The room went dead silent.

Livia dropped the gold pen. It clattered against the mahogany table. "You?"

Hector Calder stood up, his hand dropping toward the pocket of his tailored suit. "Who let this girl in here? Where are the guards?"

"Your guards are currently detained, Mr. Calder," Mara said smoothly, her voice carrying effortlessly across the vaulted ceiling. She stopped the cart five feet from the main table. "And before you complete the paperwork for Mr. Kessler’s estate, it is customary for the house to serve the memorial vintage."

Livia’s face contorted with sudden, vicious rage. "Kill her! Someone shoot this bitch right now!"

None of the guards moved. In the shadows of the balcony above, four red laser dots appeared simultaneously on Hector Calder’s chest.

Hector froze. The color drained from his face.

"I wouldn't recommend reaching for that revolver, Hector," a voice spoke from the shadows behind the orchestra curtain.

Adrian Kessler stepped out into the light.

He was alive. He was unmarked. His dark eyes swept over the frozen traitors with the chilling, calculating precision of an executioner reviewing his lineup.

Livia took a step back, her champagne glass slipping from her fingers and shattering against the marble—a mirror image of the glass Mara had struck from Adrian's hand hours earlier.

"Adrian..." Livia stammered, her voice pitching up in terror. "You're... you're alive. Julian said—"

"Julian is currently in my holding cell with a shattered shoulder, waiting for the federal transport van," Adrian said, walking slowly toward the table. He didn't look at Livia. He looked directly at Hector Calder. "Did you really think I didn't know about the Cayman accounts, Hector? Did you think thirty pieces of silver from a foreign conglomerate would buy you my father's docks?"

"Adrian, listen to me," Hector rasped, raising his hands, his eyes darting frantically toward the red dots dancing on his chest. "This was Julian's doing. Livia was manipulated. We can settle this. Harbor Crown belongs to all of us."

"Harbor Crown belongs to me," Adrian said softly.