He was in a good mood, hugged Nikki, ruffled his grandson’s hair, and shook Darius’s hand. “Well, time to get ready,” he said, looking at his watch. “We need to be at the Magnolia Grill by six.
Liv, go get yourself ready. We’re running out of time.”
Liv stood and went into the bedroom, closed the door, leaned against it, and shut her eyes for a moment. Now he would see she was wearing a different dress.
How would he react? She opened the closet, took the blue dress off the hanger, and put it on. She zipped it up, straightened the folds, and looked at herself in the mirror.
She looked good. Elegant. Dignified.
She grabbed a small clutch, put her phone, lipstick, and a tissue inside, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the bedroom. Everyone was ready in the living room—Nikki in a beautiful beige dress, Darius in a suit, Mikey in a white shirt and vest. Mark stood by the window and turned around when he heard her footsteps.
His face changed. The smile froze. His eyes widened.
And for a split second, Liv saw something in them that made her blood run cold. Rage. Incomprehension.
Fear. “What is this?” he asked, his voice too sharp. “What is this exactly?”
“What is what?” Liv stopped in the middle of the room, meeting his gaze.
“Why aren’t you wearing that dress?” His jaw tightened. “I asked you to. I ordered it specially.”
“I prefer this one,” she replied with a shrug, trying to speak calmly.
“You’re not going to object, are you, Mark?”
Nikki exchanged a quick look with Darius. An awkward silence hung in the air. “But we agreed,” Mark said through his teeth.
He took a step toward her, and his movements conveyed barely contained aggression. “Liv, this is your fiftieth. I spent so much money.
I ordered it specially—”
“I’m more comfortable in this one,” she interrupted firmly. “And anyway, Mark, it’s my birthday. I’ll wear whatever I want.”
He stared at her, and Liv could almost see the thoughts racing in his head.
He didn’t understand what was happening. Why wasn’t she in that dress? His whole plan was collapsing.
“Mom’s right, Dad,” Nikki interjected, sensing the tension. “What does it matter which dress? The main thing is that she looks beautiful.”
Mark clenched his fists, then relaxed them, forcing a smile.
But it looked strained. “Of course, of course. I’m sorry, Liv.
I just wanted everything to be perfect.”
“Everything is perfect as it is,” she replied. There was steel in her voice that hadn’t been there before. They drove to the restaurant in two cars—Nikki and her family in one, Liv and Mark in the other.
He was silent the entire way, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. Liv sat beside him, looking out the window, feeling the tension in the car building like a storm. “Do you know something?” he suddenly asked quietly.
She turned to him. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t pretend.” His eyes stayed on the road. “I can see something’s wrong with you since morning.
What happened?”
Liv looked at him and felt everything inside her seize with pain. This man she had loved, with whom she had spent most of her life, was now looking at her with the cold calculation of a predator whose prey was slipping away. “Nothing happened, Mark,” she replied calmly.
“I just finally woke up.”
He was about to say something, but they pulled up to the restaurant. He parked, shut off the engine, and sat motionless, staring ahead. “Liv, if you’re planning anything—” he began.
“Let’s go. The guests are waiting,” she said, opening her door and not letting him finish. The restaurant was decorated with balloons and flowers.
Iris met them at the entrance with a bouquet, hugged Liv, and whispered in her ear, “Everything will be fine. Stay strong.”
The guests were already gathered in the dining room—colleagues from work, neighbors, old friends. Everyone was smiling, coming up with congratulations, handing over gifts.
Liv smiled back, thanked them, hugged them, but inside she felt empty. Mark stayed close, playing the role of the devoted husband, but Liv felt him trembling with tension. Several times he tried to pull her aside to talk privately, but each time she found a reason to slip away.
The party proceeded. Tables were set. Dishes were brought out.
Wine was poured. The master of ceremonies started the program. Guests gave toasts.
Liv sat at the head of the table, smiling, responding to congratulations, but her gaze constantly scanned the room, searching for Detective Hayes’s people. She finally noticed them—three men at a table in the corner, dressed inconspicuously but with watchful eyes. One of them caught her glance and gave a barely perceptible nod.
They were here. They were watching. Mark grew increasingly agitated.
He gulped down wine, barely ate, and stepped out of the room several times to answer calls. When he returned, his face was grim. “Liv, we need to talk,” he said for the tenth time, leaning close to her ear.
“Not now, Mark,” she replied without looking at him. “We have guests. This is my birthday, remember?”
“This is important.” His hand clamped down on her wrist under the table.
He squeezed so hard it hurt. Liv cried out softly, and several guests turned toward them. Mark immediately let go, forcing a smile.
“Sorry, accident,” he said lightly. Nikki looked at her parents with alarm. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, totally fine,” Liv answered, rubbing her wrist.
“Dad’s just nervous.”
The cake was finally brought out, and everyone began singing “Happy Birthday.” Liv blew out the candles, making only one wish—for all of this to end. The guests applauded and took pictures. In that circle of joy, only she and Mark knew what was really happening.
When everyone settled back into their seats, continuing the celebration, Liv stood up from the table. The MC had just announced a break; music was playing, and people were starting to head to the dance floor. She walked toward the microphone, took it in her hand, and the music quieted.
“My dear friends,” she began, her voice trembling but audible to everyone, “I want to say a few words.”
The guests quieted, turning toward her. “Liv, what are you doing?” Mark paled and jumped up from his seat. “Sit down, Mark,” she said coldly.
“Sit down and listen.”
He froze, not knowing what to do. A tense silence filled the room. “Today I turn fifty,” Liv continued.
“And I thought I’d be celebrating this surrounded by the people I love. But I learned something that changed everything.”
She swallowed hard. “I learned that the man I trusted with my whole life tried to kill me.”
Cries of astonishment rippled through the hall.
Nikki jumped up, covering her mouth with her hand. Iris held her by the shoulder, keeping her in place. “Liv, have you gone crazy?” Mark lunged toward her, but the three men from the corner were already moving in his direction.
“What kind of nonsense are you talking about?”
“It’s not nonsense, Mark.” Liv looked at him, tears finally flowing down her cheeks. “You ordered a dress for me—a beautiful, expensive dress—and you had poison sewn into it. A contact poison that was supposed to kill me right here at my party, to make it look like a heart attack.
And you would collect the insurance money to pay off your debts.”
“That’s a lie!” he screamed, his voice cracking. “I never did that!”
“I have proof,” she cut him off. “The dress is currently with the police.
Forensics confirmed the presence of the poison. The detective who was already investigating your fraud knows everything.”
Detective Hayes walked into the room with two officers. Mark saw them and backed away.
“Mark Sutton,” the detective said calmly, “you are under arrest on suspicion of attempted murder and fraud. Come with us.”
Mark lunged toward the exit, but his path was blocked. He struggled, tried to push one of the officers away, but they quickly subdued him and snapped handcuffs around his wrists.
“Liv!” he yelled, twisting around to look at her. “Liv, I’m sorry! I didn’t want to.
They made me do it. I had no choice!”
She looked at him and felt nothing. No pity, no anger—only emptiness.
“You did have a choice, Mark,” she said quietly. “You could have told me the truth. We could have faced it together.
But you chose to murder me.”
He was led away, and the room erupted into noise. Guests muttered, gasped, asked questions. Most of them didn’t understand what had just happened.
Nikki was crying, clinging to Darius. Iris walked over to Liv and hugged her tightly. “It’s over, Liv,” she whispered.
“It’s all over.”
Liv stood there, still holding the microphone, and watched the
