The dining room basked in golden candlelight, elegant and quiet, save for the soft chime of crystal against marble. Isabella moved like silk, her every step measured, her every breath calm. She reached for the decanter on the sideboard, its contents a rich mahogany hue that shimmered as she poured two generous servings into the tall crystal glasses.

“One for you,” she said sweetly, placing the first glass before Mike.

He gave a slow, skeptical nod, taking the drink without a word.

“And one for me,” Isabella added, her smile too smooth, too controlled. She turned away slightly, just enough to reach into the pocket of her robe. A tiny...