Chapter 7

Daxton sprinted across the room and dropped to his knees. He pulled Hortensia's convulsing body into his arms.

He snatched the EpiPen from the trembling butler's hand. Without a second of hesitation, he slammed the needle into the outer thigh of Hortensia's leg.

Hortensia let out a weak, agonizing whimper.

Meredith stood over them, pointing a manicured finger at Emmie. "She did this! She slapped Hortensia this morning, and now she poisoned the breakfast! She wants to kill her!"

Daxton handed Hortensia to the paramedics who had just rushed through the front door.

He stood up. His chest heaved. He turned toward Emmie, his leather shoes hitting the floor with heavy, predatory thuds.

He stopped right next to where Emmie was sitting.

With a vicious swipe of his arm, Daxton swept everything in front of Emmie off the table. The coffee mug, the plate, the silverware-all of it smashed into the floor.

Shards of porcelain exploded across the room. Alaia shrieked and covered her ears. The dining room went dead silent.

Daxton planted both hands on the table, leaning down until his face was inches from Emmie's.

"Do not ever test my limits, Emmie," he growled, his voice vibrating with rage. "You are a vicious, calculating monster. You tried to murder her."

Emmie didn't flinch. She didn't blink. She looked at his furious face with absolute, chilling calm.

She slowly raised her hand and pointed at the floor. "She used the serving spoon. The one with crab meat on the handle. She did it to herself."

Daxton let out a harsh, barking laugh. He didn't even glance at the floor.

"Save your pathetic lies," he snapped. He straightened up, adjusting his suit jacket with a look of utter disgust.

"If Hortensia dies," Daxton said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper, "I will tear the Brandt family apart piece by piece. I will make sure your grandfather spends his last days in a gutter."

The mention of her grandfather was the final strike. The last drop of warmth in Emmie's blood froze over.

She stood up. She smoothly brushed a nonexistent speck of dust off her gray loungewear.

She reached into the inner pocket of her trench coat hanging on the back of her chair. Her fingers wrapped around the thick stack of papers.

She pulled the Divorce Agreement out and slammed it down onto the mahogany table.

Smack.

The sharp sound made Daxton's eyes dart down.

Emmie looked him dead in the eye. Her voice was crystal clear and cold as ice. "The game is over, Daxton."

She tapped her index finger against her signature at the bottom of the page. "I am leaving with nothing. I am done with you."

Daxton stared at the bold letters at the top of the page: Divorce Agreement. His brow furrowed deeply.

Then, he scoffed. A cruel, arrogant smirk touched his lips.

"Another desperate cry for attention," Daxton sneered. He didn't even reach out to touch the paper. "You wouldn't last a day without the Ellis name. You don't have the guts to actually file that."

The wail of an ambulance siren pierced the air outside. The butler ran in. "Sir, they are loading Miss Lawrence into the ambulance."

Daxton gave Emmie one last look of pure contempt. "Stop playing with fire, Emmie. You will burn."

He turned and strode out of the room. Meredith and Alaia hurried after him, throwing venomous glares at Emmie as they left.

The dining room was empty. The floor was covered in broken china and spilled coffee.

Emmie looked down at the ignored divorce agreement on the table. A cold, mocking smile curved her lips.

She turned around and walked back into the kitchen. She opened the fridge, pulled out fresh lemons and ricotta cheese, and began to prep a lemon tart, exactly as she had promised Alaia weeks ago, before everything fell apart. A promise made in another life, but Emmie was a woman of her word-even to enemies.

Her hands were steady. The lemon tart wasn't a peace offering-it was a provocation. Alaia would see it, remember her own cruel words, and choke on every bite. Emmie smiled coldly. Let them think she was still the meek little wife. It would make her disappearance all the more satisfying.

She moved as if the world hadn't just ended.