11

11

ADRIAN

My stomach lurched as I watched Anne sidle up to Annalisa, a sly smile playing on her lips. Annalisa, blissfully unaware, was engrossed in a conversation with Beatrice. A prickle of unease ran down my spine. There was something about Anne’s posture, the way she held the wine glass a little too close to her body, that set off my internal alarm bells.

Years of poring over historical accounts of poisoning had given me a healthy dose of paranoia, especially around unattended beverages. I couldn’t pinpoint why, but Anne’s presence reeked of something off. Maybe it was the overly sweet perfume that clung to her like a cloying fog, or the way her eyes seemed to flicker between Annalisa and the glass with a glint that could only be described as...predatory.

Whatever it was, I couldn’t ignore the gut feeling gnawing at me. Just as Anne reached out to offer the crimson liquid to Annalisa, I sprang into action. With a burst of adrenaline, I lunged forward, my foot connecting with the b