Instantly, his expression softened.
Margaret stopped in front of me carrying two glasses.
"I know I've made mistakes to Olivia," she said, her voice trembling. "I really do." She raised one glass and emptied it in a single gulp before placing the second in front of me. "I never wanted things to turn out like this."
A tear slid down her cheek.
"I just wanted everyone to get along." She bit her lip. "I've been carrying guilt for eight years. Please..." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "Can you forgive me?"
The entire room watched, waiting, and watching me as if I were the villain.
As if I were the cruel one.
As if I was supposed to comfort the woman whose lies had destroyed my life.
Slowly, I lowered my gaze to the glass.
Before I could say anything, several people nearby immediately spoke up.
"What is her problem? Marga already apologized so sincerely. She's practically begging for forgiveness. What more does Olivia want?"
Another person scoffed. "We didn't come here tonight to watch Marga get bullied."
"Exactly. Marga stayed by Alaric's side for three whole years and didn't even care about her own reputation. And this is the thanks she gets?"
Their voices grew louder with every sentence, painting me as the unreasonable one, the villain who refused to appreciate Margaret's generosity. I lowered my eyes and remained silent.
Across from me, Margaret bit her lip and looked on the verge of tears. Alaric glanced at her before turning to me, his jaw tightening.
Finally, he reached over and took the wine glass from Margaret's hand. Without a word, he held it in front of me.
"Olivia," he said in a low voice, calm but unmistakably dangerous, "be good. Don't make this into a bigger scene than it already is."
I almost laughed.
A scene?
Who exactly was making a scene here?
Me, or the woman who destroyed my life and was now performing innocence in front of an audience?
When I still didn't take the glass, Alaric leaned closer. His breath brushed against my ear.
"You haven't seen your grandfather in years."
My body froze instantly.
Alaric noticed.
A flicker of satisfaction crossed his eyes.
"Drink it," he said, softening his tone slightly. "Be good for me, Liv."
Then came the threat hidden beneath the gentleness.
"Drink this glass, and I'll personally take you to see your grandfather afterward."
My throat tightened.
Grandfather was the only family I had left.
The only person who still mattered.
For a moment, I stared at the wine as the dark liquid swayed inside the glass. A metallic taste suddenly rose into my throat, but I didn't hesitate any longer. I took the glass from Alaric's hand and drank every drop.
The atmosphere immediately relaxed.
Conversations resumed.
People laughed again.
Everyone looked pleased, as though I'd finally learned my lesson and become obedient enough to satisfy them.
At that moment, Alaric peeled a shrimp for Margaret and placed it onto her plate. Margaret smiled sweetly, then suddenly picked up the plate and walked over to me.
Without a word, she held a shrimp in front of my face.
"Olivia," she said warmly, "since we're friends now, have a bite. This is imported shrimp. It costs over a thousand dollars."
I stared at the shrimp.
For a moment, I genuinely thought I was hallucinating.
Alaric knew.
He knew I was allergic to seafood.
Years ago, when we were still dating, I'd nearly died after accidentally eating shrimp at a company banquet. He'd stayed beside my hospital bed for three straight days without sleeping. He knew every ingredient I couldn't eat. He used to remove seafood from dishes before they ever reached me.
Yet now he sat there watching Margaret offer me shrimp.
I almost laughed.
Had he forgotten? Or did he simply not care anymore?
When I didn't move, Alaric's expression darkened. "If you don't eat it, I'll shove it into your mouth myself," he said coldly.
The room immediately fell silent.
Margaret stepped forward and said softly, "Alaric, don't be angry. Olivia, I just want us to be friends again. That's all I've ever wanted."
Before I could react, she pushed the shrimp closer.
My entire body froze as a memory surfaced without warning. In prison, several inmates had laughed while one of them mixed crab meat into my food despite knowing I was allergic. I remembered the suffocating pain that followed, the ambulance ride, the six days I spent confined to a hospital bed, and the internal bleeding so severe that doctors had nearly rushed me into emergency surgery.
Alaric knew all of that.
He had received the medical reports.
He knew exactly what seafood could do to me.
Yet neither he nor Margaret stopped.
The shrimp touched my lips. Instinctively, I tried to turn away.
"Try spitting it out," Alaric said quietly while looking directly into my eyes. "If you do, your grandfather will spend the rest of the year alone. Don't test my patience, Olivia."
My body went rigid.
Margaret smiled sadly as though she were the victim. "Olivia, please. I'm trying so hard to make things right between us."
I looked at the shrimp, then at Alaric, then at Margaret. Slowly, I opened my mouth.
Margaret immediately pushed the shrimp inside.
The room visibly relaxed. Several guests even smiled as though they had just witnessed a touching reconciliation instead of humiliation.
I chewed, swallowed, and sat there in silence.
"There," Margaret said happily. "See? Now we're friends again. I knew you'd forgive me eventually."
Laughter rippled through the room.
Margaret continued placing shrimp onto my plate while Alaric peeled more for her. He never stopped her. In fact, he calmly peeled one shrimp after another and placed them in front of me.
"Eat," Alaric ordered. "Marga prepared this dinner for you. Don't waste her effort."
So I ate.
One shrimp after another disappeared from my plate. Each bite felt like swallowing shards of glass. Nobody noticed. Or maybe nobody cared.
Especially not Alaric.
His attention remained fixed on Margaret.
"Eat more," he told her gently while placing another peeled shrimp onto her plate. "You barely touched your food all day. You'll get sick if you keep neglecting yourself."
Margaret smiled shyly. "Thank you, Alaric. You're always taking care of me."
The tenderness in his voice used to belong to me.
Now it belonged to someone else.
My stomach began twisting violently. The pain was familiar, sharp, burning, and dangerous. Sweat dampened my back while the room slowly started spinning around me.
Across the table, Margaret was still smiling.
"Olivia, let's eat together," she said while lifting another shrimp toward me. "After tonight, we'll put everything behind us."
I looked at the food and felt my stomach lurch. Something surged up my throat. My breathing stopped and a sharp pain exploded through my chest.
I coughed!
Blood burst from my mouth.
Bright red blood splattered across the tablecloth.
The entire room froze.
Someone screamed. Chairs scraped violently across the floor. And Margaret's face turned white.
Alaric reacted instantly. Without hesitation, he stepped in front of Margaret, and the blood splashed across his white shirt.
His first instinct had always been to protect her.
Not me.
Never me.
That was my final thought before darkness swallowed everything.
My body collapsed backward, and the last thing I heard was someone shouting my name.
"Olivia!"
