I Grabbed A Wealthy Man’s Wine Glass Before He Could Drink—Then The Woman Beside Him Slapped Me, And My Phone Exposed What

I was halfway across the private wine-cellar dining room when I saw Everett Sloan lift his red-wine glass toward his mouth.

The second I saw the decanter on his table, my stomach dropped.

I had just received a video clip on the restaurant’s internal service phone feed—a short recording from the prep station camera. In it, an unknown woman’s hand tipped a small vial of clear liquid into the exact same crystal decanter I had served to Table Twelve.

I didn’t think.

I ran.

“Don’t drink that, sir!”

I reached across the table and grabbed the glass near the bowl just before it touched Everett’s lips. He jerked back in shock, his silver brows drawing together.

Before I could explain, the woman seated beside him shot to her feet.

Marlene Voss.

Elegant bronze satin dress. Sapphire earrings. Cold eyes.

“Take your filthy hands off his glass!”

Then she slapped me.

Hard.

The sound cracked through the candlelit room. My head snapped sideways, and heat flared across my cheek.

I stepped back, one hand flying to my face. My eyes filled instantly, but I didn’t let go of why I had come.

Marlene stared down at me with pure contempt.

“You’re a server. Know your place.”

For one second I wanted to cry.

Instead, I pulled out my phone with shaking fingers, turned the screen toward her, and said, “Then explain this.”