Chapter 4 4

The bridal suite was filled with white roses. The scent was cloying, almost suffocating.

Sitting on the velvet sofa, legs crossed, was Doria Roy.

She was wearing the maid-of-honor dress, a pale pink creation that clashed with her sharp features. When Janey entered, Doria jumped up, her face arranging itself into a bright, plastic smile.

"Janey! Oh my god, look at you. You look like an angel."

She rushed forward, enveloping Janey in a hug. Perfume-Chanel No. 5, too much of it-assaulted Janey's nose.

Janey stood rigid. In her last life, she had hugged back. She had cried on this shoulder.

"Hello, Doria," Janey said.

Doria pulled back, keeping her hands on Janey's shoulders. Her eyes were wide, feigning concern.

"I can't believe Daddy is making you do this. Marrying that... monster. You must be terrified."

"It's for the family," Janey said, reciting the line she was expected to say. "I don't have a choice."

Doria's eyes gleamed. She guided Janey to the sofa.

"Listen to me," Doria whispered, conspiring. "I have a way out for you."

She reached into her clutch and pulled out a small, clear vial of liquid.

"This is a sedative," Doria said. "It's mild. Just enough to make him groggy. Carter set it up."

Janey looked at the vial.

"Carter?" she asked, injecting a tremor into her voice.

"Yes," Doria nodded eagerly. "If Austin passes out or gets sick right after the wedding, the stock will tank. The board will intervene. The prenup will be voided. You can leave, Janey. With the money."

It wasn't a sedative. It was a potent hallucinogen mixed with a muscle relaxant. In her past life, Doria had spiked Janey's drink with it, then claimed Janey was a drug addict unfit to be a Walton wife.

"But..." Janey bit her lip. "What about the cameras?"

"The VIP Suite has no cameras," Doria lied smoothly. "Carter will meet you there. He's going to take you away. He loves you, Janey."

Janey took the vial. Her fingers brushed Doria's.

"Okay," Janey whispered. "I'll do it."

Doria let out a breath, her triumph almost visible. She turned to the table where a bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket.

"To freedom," Doria said, popping the cork.

Janey watched her pour two glasses. She knew Doria had already prepped the bottle.

As Doria turned around with the glasses, Janey stood up abruptly. Her elbow knocked into the open bottle on the table.

Ideally, it would have tipped. Instead, Janey grabbed it, feigning a fumble, and splashed a generous amount of the foaming liquid all over the front of Doria's dress.

"Oh my god!" Janey gasped. "I'm so sorry! My hands are shaking!"

Doria shrieked, jumping back. "You idiot! This is silk!"

"I'll get club soda!" Janey cried.

"No, just... stay there!" Doria snarled, her mask slipping. "I have to go to the bathroom. Don't touch anything!"

Doria grabbed her clutch and ran into the ensuite bathroom.

The moment the door clicked shut, Janey's face went blank.

She moved with terrifying speed.

She didn't have a phone; Austin had taken it. But she had memory. She uncorked the vial Doria had given her. She poured the entire contents into the glass of champagne Doria had poured for herself. She swirled it gently.

The toilet flushed.

Janey picked up the two glasses.

Doria emerged, dabbing at her dress with a wet towel, looking furious.

Janey held out the glass. The drugged one.

"Sister," Janey said, her voice trembling with fake emotion. "Thank you for saving me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Doria looked at the glass, then at Janey's pathetic expression. She sneered internally.

"Cheers, Janey," Doria said.

She took the glass. She drank.