Victor’s stare pinned Leon in place.

“Why did you bring me that glass?”

Leon forced a laugh.

“Because she asked me to.”

Lena’s face drained.

“That’s a lie.

I saw you switch the champagne bottle.”

“Search her,” Leon snapped.

“If there was p0ison, she brought it.”

Dmitri looked at Victor.

At Victor’s nod, he searched Lena’s apron.

Her knees nearly gave way when he pulled out a tiny glass vial.

“I’ve never seen that before,” Lena whispered.

Leon pointed at her.

“There’s your proof.”

“No,” Lena said, trembling.

“A server bumped into me near the kitchen.

She must have put it there.”

“What server?” Victor asked.

“I don’t know.

She wore the hotel uniform, but I’d never seen her before.”

Dmitri examined the vial.

“Empty.”

Victor took it and turned it beneath the light.

Two engraved initials appeared on the silver cap.

C.W.

Lena looked toward Clara Whitmore.

The color vanished from Clara’s face.

Victor slowly crossed the ballroom and placed the vial before his fiancée.

“Clara,” he said, his voice dangerously calm.

“Why are your initials on this?”

Clara’s lips parted, but Leon answered for her.

“She didn’t do it.”

Victor turned—and Lena saw Clara silently mouth two terrified words:

“He knows.”

Who planted the vial on Lena, and what does Leon know about Clara?

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