Chapter 3 - The Lake House Trap
The drive up to the secluded lake house in Wisconsin took two hours. It was a property Calvin’s firm used for executive retreats—isolated, quiet, and miles away from the nearest hospital. It was the perfect place for an assassination.
What Calvin didn’t know was that Elias and a heavily armed team of state police investigators had arrived four hours earlier. They were currently hiding in the dense tree line and monitoring the property through hidden cameras planted in the living room that morning.
I parked my car in the gravel driveway. My hands were shaking, but I took a deep breath, forcing my heart rate to slow. Underneath my silk blouse, a tiny microphone was taped to my ribs.
When I unlocked the front door, Calvin was already there.
He was standing by the stone fireplace, looking like a Ralph Lauren catalog model in a thick wool sweater. He smiled when I walked in—a warm, affectionate smile that made me want to vomit.
“Brooke,” he said softly, stepping forward as if he wanted to hug me. “Thank you for coming. I know this is incredibly hard.”
“Let’s just get this over with, Calvin,” I said, keeping my distance. I set my purse on the kitchen island. “Where are the papers?”
“On the table,” he gestured toward the dining room. “But first, I want to apologize. For everything. I ruined the best thing I ever had. I want us to part as friends.”
He turned around and walked to the wine fridge. “I brought your favorite. Silver Oak. Let’s have one glass to honor the good years, and then we’ll sign.”
I watched him carefully. He pulled the cork out, his back shielding the bottle from my view for just a fraction of a second. But I knew what he was doing. He was ensuring the lethal dose of the synthesized allergen mixed perfectly with the red wine.
He poured two glasses, walked over, and handed one to me. The dark red liquid swirled against the crystal.
“To new beginnings,” Calvin said, raising his glass, his eyes fixed on mine with a terrifying, absolute calm.
“New beginnings,” I echoed.
I brought the glass to my lips. I let the rim touch my mouth, tilting it back just enough so Calvin thought I was drinking. Then, I intentionally let my hand slip.
The crystal glass shattered against the hardwood floor, splashing red wine across Calvin’s expensive leather shoes.
“Oh my god, I’m so clumsy,” I gasped, acting instantly flustered. “I’m sorry, Calvin.”
His jaw tightened. A flash of pure, murderous rage crossed his face before he forced the mask back on. “It’s fine, Brooke. Accidents happen. I’ll just pour you another one.”
“Actually,” I said, my voice dropping the facade of the broken wife. I stood up straight, looking directly into his eyes. “I think one dose of lethal sulfonamides is enough for today, don't you?”
Calvin froze. The wine bottle in his hand stopped mid-air. The color drained completely from his face.
“What are you talking about?” he laughed nervously. “Brooke, are you feeling okay?”
“I’m feeling fantastic, Calvin. Which is surprising, considering you paid Apex Holdings two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to ensure I stopped breathing by the end of the month.”
The silence in the lake house was deafening. Calvin stared at me, the charming husband finally melting away to reveal the absolute monster underneath. He slowly set the wine bottle down on the counter.
“How long have you known?” he whispered.
“Since the night I caught you with Stephanie,” I answered, taking a step back toward the front door. “You should really use a stronger password for your encrypted drives, Calvin. Steph2023 was a bit too obvious.”
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Calvin’s eyes darted around the room. He realized he was isolated. He realized I knew everything. And in his twisted mind, the only way out was to finish the job manually.
He lunged across the kitchen island.
