The Cruel Fiancée Fed the Billionaire's Son a Poisoned Cake — Until the Maid Spotted the Pecan Hidden Inside

"Chef," Damian growled softly, holding the white plate down so the man could see the crushed pecan. "Did you bake this?"

The chef looked at the nut and violently shook his head, sweating profusely in absolute terror.

"No, Mr. Vance! I swear to God!" the chef cried frantically. "This is a strictly nut-free estate! We don't even allow employees to bring granola bars onto the property! There isn't a single pecan in my entire pantry! I personally plated Master Ethan’s chocolate cake!"

Damian’s dark eyes flicked back to Vanessa. "So, if the kitchen didn't have pecans, how did one end up perfectly hidden under the chocolate drizzle on my son's specific plate?"

Vanessa began to hyperventilate. The cinematic realism of her absolute, unadulterated panic was breathtaking. She realized her brilliant assassination plan was violently unraveling in front of three hundred elite guests.

"The chef is lying!" Vanessa screamed like a feral animal, gripping the fabric of her red gown. "He's covering his own incompetence! I haven't been in the kitchen all day!"

Suddenly, a small, quiet voice broke through the tension.

"Yes, you were," Ethan said innocently, looking up from his high-backed chair.

Everyone in the dining room froze.

"What did you say, buddy?" Damian asked, dropping to one knee beside his son, his voice instantly softening into a gentle, loving tone.

"Vanessa was in the kitchen," Ethan explained simply. "I went to get a glass of water before dinner. She was standing by the dessert cart with a little plastic bag. She told me it was a surprise and to go away."