Chapter 6: The Toast Before the Fall

Half an hour later, I showed up at the hotel dressed in designer brands. The moment I stepped out of the car, all eyes were on me, and the crowd that had been with Savannah instantly shifted to my side.

My outfit was all sharp lines and bold colors. Even the valet did a double take. I could feel the relatives sizing me up, their whispers louder than usual.

"Wow, money really does make a difference—she’s gotten so pretty."

Aunt Linda nudged Uncle Ray, who nodded in agreement. I caught a few jealous glances from Savannah’s old cheer squad.

"Yeah, she’s got a whole new vibe."

Someone snapped a photo. I pretended not to notice, keeping my smile polite and distant.

"What are you guys saying? Autumn was always pretty!"

Cousin Molly piped up, always eager to be on the winning side.

I smiled politely, and when I turned around, I saw Savannah. Her gloomy face brightened the instant she caught my eye. The sharp relatives noticed and immediately shifted the conversation to their favorite sport—comparing us. I braced myself for the onslaught.

It was like watching a tennis match—every comment volleyed between us, with Savannah losing ground fast.

"Look, doesn’t Autumn seem classier now?"

"You know, she really does."

Even Aunt Brenda looked rattled. I almost felt sorry for Savannah—almost.

Savannah was clearly dressed up, even wearing the Tiffany bracelet she bought on credit in high school. She probably hadn’t expected the relatives who used to praise her would now be tearing her down. I saw her fists clenched white behind her back. I almost wanted to laugh. If this had been before, she’d have lost her temper already.

She bit her lip so hard it almost bled. I wondered if she’d make it through the night without snapping.

My husband and I were ushered into the private room Savannah had booked. After everyone sat down, I got up to wash my hands, but as I neared the restroom, I heard an angry shout.

The voice echoed off the tile, raw and desperate. I paused, listening, heart thudding.

"Why! Why won’t that witch just die!"

My hand froze on the door, and I couldn’t help but laugh. She couldn’t handle it already?

I covered my mouth, stifling a giggle. Savannah’s meltdown was almost too easy.

"Savannah? What are you doing in the bathroom?"

I pushed open the door, pretending not to know anything. Her hair was messy, and her mouth hung open mid-rant as she stared at me. It was almost sitcom-worthy.

She looked like she’d seen a ghost. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for her excuse.

"N-nothing. I just… bumped into something, it hurt…"

She looked away nervously. I gave a meaningful "oh." I let her squirm, enjoying every second.

I pretended to buy it, letting her squirm.

"Well, hurry up and come back. Everyone’s waiting."

I washed my hands thoroughly, then flicked the water off hard as I finished. Inevitably, I splashed Savannah. She looked like she was about to curse, but held it in. I almost applauded her restraint.

She gritted her teeth, forcing a smile.

"Fine."

She gritted out the word through clenched teeth.

Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but the anger was unmistakable. It was almost impressive.

We returned to the private room together. As soon as we walked in, Trent greeted us with a smile, holding a glass of wine. His eyes sparkled with mischief.

He raised his glass, eyes twinkling with mischief. The room went quiet, waiting for the show.

"Latecomers have to drink!"

He grinned, waving the glass in the air. I recognized the look—he was up to something.

I was about to take the glass, but he passed right by me and handed it to Savannah. The relatives weren’t happy. They started grumbling, eager for more drama. Someone nudged the wine bottle closer to me.

"What about Autumn? She has to drink too."

"If one goes down, they both go down."

They poured me a drink, but just as it reached me, Trent stopped my uncle.

He put on his best host smile, waving his hands theatrically.

"Uncle, this kind of wine isn’t good enough for our Mrs. Harlan."

He walked to his seat, pulled a bottle of Napa Valley Reserve out of his black bag, and the relatives’ eyes lit up. Trent opened it in front of me, poured me a full glass, and handed it over.

He made a show of it, swirling the glass and sniffing the cork. The room oohed and aahed, impressed by the label.

"Good wine for good people. I bought this just to celebrate you two being accepted into the family—no one else gets any."

He winked at me, but I could see the calculation in his eyes. I took the glass, feeling the weight of a hundred stares.

I smiled. This must be the drugged wine.

I raised my glass, meeting Savannah’s eyes. She looked triumphant. I almost felt bad ruining her plans.

I took it and downed it in one gulp, flipping the glass over. The relatives cheered, and the party began. The energy in the room shifted.

They clapped and whistled, already half-drunk themselves. I settled into my seat, pretending not to notice the way Savannah watched me. Her gaze was like a laser.

In my experience, these family gatherings were just big bragging sessions. Whoever was doing best got all the attention. In the past, thanks to Aunt Brenda’s big mouth, Savannah was always the star. But this time, no one mentioned her—every word was about me.

They told stories that grew taller with every glass of wine. I nodded and smiled, letting their words wash over me. I was used to this kind of flattery.

They talked about how cute I was as a kid, though most of them had never seen me back then. They praised my grades, saying I deserved my success—though when I was top of the class, they called me a bookworm. Funny how quickly people rewrite history when money’s involved.

I was speechless, but hid it well, pretending to be flattered as I accepted drink after drink from Savannah.

My head spun, but I kept my composure. Savannah kept refilling my glass, her smile growing wider each time. I could feel the room spinning.

Three hours later, the party ended. My husband and I were both wasted. I could barely stand.

My knees buckled. The room spun, voices fading in and out. Savannah’s face was the last thing I saw before I blacked out. Her grin burned into my memory.

As I drifted into unconsciousness, I saw Savannah’s triumphant smile. Her eyes sparkled with victory. She thought she’d finally won.