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Chapter 8
"Mr. Smith, what did you wish for? Care to share?" Alexander Huxley approached with a champagne flute in hand, his smile laced with subtle provocation.
Ethan Smith opened his mouth to respond, but Luna cut in first. "What else could it be? Every year, it's the same—wishing me and Mom health and happiness!" She lifted her chin proudly, as if this were an indisputable fact.
Though Sophia Sinclair remained silent, the certainty in her eyes spoke volumes. Ethan lowered his lashes, offering no explanation. Perhaps it was better this way—less trouble.
"What a coincidence—we share the same birthday." Alexander handed him a glass of red wine, his smile deepening. "Care for a toast, Mr. Smith?"
The moment the words left his lips, Sophia and Luna immediately closed in, their wary gazes fixed on Ethan as if he were a criminal poised to strike.
Ethan chuckled softly and raised his glass, clinking it against Alexander's. The sharp chime of crystal cut through the lively hum of the banquet hall.
By mid-celebration, Alexander had become the center of attention. Sophia stayed glued to his side, shielding him from excessive drinks and serving him food, while Ethan sat alone in a corner like a forgotten ornament.
"Ms. Sinclair is so devoted to Mr. Huxley—she won’t even spare a glance for her own husband."
"I heard Mr. Huxley was her first love? If not for back then..."
"Tsk, some people cling to positions they don’t deserve. Shameless."
The whispers swirled around Ethan, each word piercing his ears. He swirled his wine glass, a self-deprecating smile curling his lips. Soon. Very soon, he’d be gone for good.
Suddenly, chaos erupted at the center of the room. Alexander collapsed onto a sofa, clutching his stomach, his face deathly pale. Sophia immediately summoned her private physician.
"Poisoning! He needs emergency treatment!" The doctor’s declaration sent shockwaves through the crowd.
Sophia’s expression darkened as she helped Alexander to his feet, throwing out a frigid command before rushing out: "Find out who did this!"
Guests scattered like startled birds. Ethan returned alone to the manor. Just as he changed out of his formal wear, his door was violently kicked open.
"Ethan Smith! How dare you!" Sophia stormed in with bodyguards, her eyes blazing with fury.
Luna followed close behind, her small face twisted with hatred. "You monster! How could you poison my dad?"
Forced to his knees, Ethan finally understood—they believed he was the culprit.
"It wasn’t me!" He struggled to look up. "I was leaving anyway—why would I bother?"
Sophia ignored him, turning instead to Alexander, who lay weakly on the bed. "How do you want to handle this?"
Alexander offered a frail smile. "Why not... hand him over to me for a day? I have ways to make him confess." His gaze locked onto Ethan like a serpent eyeing its prey.
To everyone’s surprise, Sophia hesitated. Her brows knitted in rare uncertainty. Luna tugged at her sleeve. "Mom, where’s Dad taking him?"
The room fell into abrupt silence. Ethan lifted his head, meeting three pairs of eyes—each filled with a different emotion.