The champagne was colder than Bella expected.
It slid over her tongue in a clean, fizzy rush, bright with sweetness that tasted like celebration. For half a second, relief bloomed in her chest like she'd won something.
See? Nothing happened.
See? Lucian is paranoid.
See? Cassie is Cassie.
Bella lowered the glass and forced a small smile, mostly out of spite. "Happy?"
Cassie's smile widened instantly, dazzling enough to fool a room. "So happy," she chirped, and the way she said it made Bella's stomach tighten for a reason she didn't want to name.
Lucian's hand had gone rigid on Bella's wrist.
He didn't pull the glass away now. It was too late. He stared at the half-empty flute in Bella's hand like it had turned into a weapon while she wasn't looking.
"Bella," he said quietly.
Bella rolled her eyes. "What? It's champagne."
Lucian's jaw flexed. "We're leaving. Now."
Alan laughed under his breath, the sound smooth and mocking. "Relax, brother. One sip won't kill her."
Cassie giggled lightly, covering her mouth as if she found the whole thing charming. "You guys are so intense."
Bella's cheeks heated. Being the center of attention felt like being pinned. She hated it. She hated that Cassie had baited her into this. She hated that part of her had wanted to be baited, just to prove she wasn't Lucian's possession.
She set the glass down on a passing tray.
"Fine," Bella snapped at Lucian. "Let's go."
Lucian didn't waste time. His hand shifted from her wrist to her lower back, guiding her through the crowd with calm, controlled urgency. Not dragging. Not yanking. Just moving like a man who already knew what was coming and didn't have time to argue with anyone about it.
Bella stumbled slightly in the gown, caught off balance by his pace.
Cassie's voice called after them, sweet and loud. "Text me when you get home, Bells! I'll come by tomorrow, okay?"
Tomorrow.
Bella clung to the word. Like there would be a tomorrow where this all looked less sharp.
Lucian's car was waiting at the edge of the drive. The moment the door shut behind them, the music and laughter faded, replaced by insulated silence and the soft hum of the engine.
Bella exhaled hard.
"Well," she said, voice shaky with leftover anger, "I hope you feel proud. You got your little public moment."
Lucian didn't respond.
He stared straight ahead, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh like he was forcing himself not to reach for her again.
Bella swallowed. "You didn't have to make a scene."
Lucian's voice came out low. "I didn't."
Bella scoffed. "Yes, you did."
Lucian's jaw tightened. He didn't look at her, but his tone sharpened by a fraction. "Bella. Listen to me."
Bella crossed her arms and stared out the window. "No."
Lucian inhaled slowly. "How do you feel?"
Bella blinked, thrown by the question. "What?"
Lucian's gaze flicked to her, brief but intense. "How do you feel right now."
Bella opened her mouth to say fine.
Then she paused.
Because her tongue felt slightly thick. Because her throat felt… strange. Like she'd swallowed something that didn't belong.
Bella pressed her fingertips lightly to her neck.
The skin felt warm.
Her heartbeat felt louder.
Bella frowned. "I'm… I don't know. Warm."
Lucian's knuckles went white on the steering wheel.
Bella's stomach dipped. "Lucian, what is it?"
Lucian didn't answer immediately.
The streetlights slid over his face in intervals, illuminating his expression in fragments. Control. Tension. Something darker underneath.
"Breathe slowly," Lucian said instead.
Bella stared at him. "Stop."
Lucian's voice dropped. "Bella. Breathe."
Bella's chest tightened, annoyance giving way to unease. She forced herself to inhale, slow.
Air scraped a little.
Bella blinked. "That's… weird."
Lucian's jaw clenched.
The car turned off the main road, heading toward the city center rather than back to Lucian's house.
Bella's unease spiked. "Where are we going?"
Lucian's voice was clipped. "Hospital."
Bella's eyes widened. "What? No. I'm fine."
Lucian's gaze flicked to her again. "You drank something you didn't watch being made."
Bella's pulse jumped.
Bella scoffed, but the sound came out weak. "It was champagne. Cassie gave it to me."
Lucian didn't react to Cassie's name this time. He didn't have the luxury. "You don't know what was in it."
Bella's throat tightened again, a tiny constriction that made her swallow repeatedly.
Panic rose like a wave.
"Lucian," Bella whispered. "Stop. You're scaring me."
Lucian's voice softened by a fraction. "Good. Be scared. Stay awake."
Bella's breath caught.
Stay awake.
The words hit Bella's spine like ice water.
She turned toward him fully, heart pounding. "What do you mean stay awake?"
Lucian didn't look away from the road. "I mean don't close your eyes."
Bella's mouth went dry.
She tried to laugh. "You're being dramatic."
Lucian's voice was quiet now, almost hoarse. "This isn't drama."
Bella's throat tightened again. This time it felt sharper. Not just warmth. Not just weirdness.
It felt like the air was getting thinner.
Bella's fingers gripped the edge of the seat.
Her eyes darted to the dashboard clock, the passing lights, the blur of the city outside. Everything looked too bright and too far away.
Her tongue felt heavy.
Her skin felt hot under the gown.
Bella swallowed. It didn't help.
A sound slipped from her, involuntary, small. "Lucian…"
Lucian's grip tightened on the wheel. "I'm here."
Bella turned her head toward the window and saw her reflection in the glass—eyes too wide, lips slightly parted, face flushed.
She looked frightened.
She looked like someone who'd been tricked.
"No," she whispered. "No, Cassie wouldn't…"
Lucian's voice cut in, low and sharp. "Don't say her name like a prayer."
Bella's breath hitched.
She wanted to defend Cassie. Wanted to insist this was a misunderstanding. Cassie would never hurt her. Cassie might flirt, might tease, might manipulate little moments to keep Bella close—but hurt her?
Never.
Except… except the memory of Cassie's grip on her wrist flashed in Bella's mind. The firmness. The hunger in her eyes when she said drink.
Bella's stomach lurched.
Lucian's car accelerated.
Bella's breathing became shallow. She tried to pull in more air and couldn't.
Her throat was closing.
"Oh my God," Bella gasped, voice raspy. "Lucian—"
Lucian's voice was steady but hard. "Stay with me."
Bella's hands clawed at her own neck, nails scraping skin.
Air wouldn't come.
Panic turned animal, immediate and consuming.
Lucian swore under his breath and reached one hand toward Bella, gripping her forearm hard enough to anchor her.
"Look at me," he ordered.
Bella forced her eyes toward him.
Lucian's face was calm in the way men got when they were terrified and refused to show it. His eyes were burning with focus.
"Bella," he said, each word deliberate. "You can breathe. Don't fight it."
Bella shook her head, tears already spilling.
"I can't," she rasped.
Lucian's jaw clenched. "You can. In through your nose. Slow."
Bella tried.
Her lungs screamed.
Her body wanted to bolt, to flail, to do something.
Lucian held her steady with one hand while driving with the other, and Bella hated that his steadiness was the only solid thing in the world right now.
The car swerved into a hospital entrance lane.
Lights. Doors. A canopy.
Lucian slammed the brakes, threw the car into park, and was out of the driver's seat before Bella could even process it.
He yanked her door open.
Cold air hit Bella's face like a slap.
Bella tried to stand and almost collapsed.
Lucian caught her instantly, one arm around her waist, lifting her like she weighed nothing.
Her heels scraped the pavement.
Bella's vision blurred, the edges darkening.
"Help!" Lucian shouted, voice cutting through the night.
Bella's head lolled against his shoulder. She could hear his heartbeat, fast and controlled.
Footsteps rushed toward them. Voices. A nurse.
"What happened?" someone demanded.
Lucian's voice was clipped, sharp with authority. "Possible poisoning. She can't breathe."
Poisoning.
The word didn't feel real. It didn't fit Bella's life. It belonged in crime shows, not in champagne flutes at glittering estates.
Bella tried to speak.
Only a strangled sound came out.
Hands appeared. A wheelchair. A mask pressed to her face.
"Oxygen," someone said.
Bella's lungs sucked in a little air, thin and cold.
She sobbed once, a wet, helpless sound.
Lucian's face hovered above hers as they wheeled her inside.
His eyes locked onto hers.
"Stay awake," he said again, voice low and fierce. "Stay with me."
Bella blinked slowly, fighting the heaviness that tried to drag her under.
The fluorescent hospital lights cut into her eyes.
Voices blurred around her. Questions. Instructions. The squeak of wheels.
Bella's mind caught on one image like a hook.
Cassie's smile.
Cassie's hand offering the champagne.
Cassie whispering, drink.
"No," Bella tried to say.
But the word dissolved into a cough.
They rushed her into a curtained bay.
A doctor leaned over her, face serious.
"Ma'am, can you tell me what you took?" he asked.
Bella tried to answer.
Her throat seized.
Her vision narrowed.
She felt her body tipping away from her, like she was sliding out of herself.
Lucian grabbed her hand.
His fingers were strong, warm, squeezing hard.
"I'm here," he said, and for the first time his voice broke. Just slightly. "I've got you."
Bella's eyes flooded with tears.
She wanted to apologize. For hating him. For fighting him. For not listening.
She wanted to tell him he was right.
She wanted to tell Cassie she was wrong.
She tried to speak.
She couldn't.
The doctor's voice snapped. "Her oxygen is dropping—get epinephrine—now!"
Someone tore open a package.
A needle flashed in the bright light.
Bella's hearing dulled, like cotton stuffed into her ears.
The last thing she felt clearly was Lucian's hand crushing hers, like he could hold her soul in place by force.
And the last thing she saw, through the blur, was Lucian's face over hers—furious, terrified, determined—
as if he could fight death itself if it dared touch her.
Then Bella's vision went dark.
And somewhere inside that darkness, a single thought screamed, too late to save her.
Cassie did this.