“Julian gave me a bottle,” she whispered. “He said it was a sedative. He wanted me to put it in your tea after you signed the divorce papers.”
My pulse thudded in my ears.
“And then?”
“He said you’d be confused. That you’d fall down the stairs.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
Elena looked toward the stone steps.
Only then did I understand.
The kitchen floor had been opened as part of my grandmother’s final security protocol. But Julian had known there was some kind of lower chamber. Perhaps not what it contained, but enough to improvise.
A fall.
A tragic accident.
A grieving estranged husband.
A ten-million-dollar insurance payout.
Beatrice folded her arms.
“She’s lying to save herself.”
Elena whirled on her.
“You bought the pills!”
