The air felt heavier than usual.
Ryan didn't notice it at first—not when they were all preparing to leave, not when Ingrid casually offered to assist, and certainly not when Zavian quietly lingered near the food.
But something had already gone terribly wrong.
Ingrid packed the meals carefully, her movements smooth, practiced… deliberate. Containers were stacked one after the other—neat, organized. Yet one stood out.
Old. Worn. Almost forgotten.
That was the one she handed to Ryan.
Zavian's eyes flickered as he watched her leave the kitchen. The moment she disappeared, his expression darkened. Swiftly, like a shadow moving between breaths, he lifted the lid of the old container.
A fine powder slipped from his fingers.
Silent. Deadly.
Then, just as quickly, he was gone.
The sun hung low when Ryan finally opened the container.
He didn't eat.
Instead, he dumped the food onto the ground absentmindedly. A few stray dogs rushed over, tails wagging, desperate and hungry.
Ryan crouched nearby, watching them with idle curiosity.
Seconds passed.
Then something felt… wrong.
The dogs slowed.
Their movements grew stiff.
One collapsed.
Then another.
And another.
Ryan's breath caught in his throat as his eyes widened in horror.
"No…"
He rushed forward, his heartbeat pounding violently in his chest. The dogs lay motionless, their bodies unnaturally still.
Dead.
All of them.
"The food… was poisoned."
The realization hit him like a bullet. His jaw slackened, shock flooding his veins. He spun around, scanning the empty surroundings.
No witnesses.
No help.
Only silence.
Fear crept in—but it didn't last long.
Because anger replaced it.
By the time Ryan got home, that anger had sharpened into something far more dangerous.
Ingrid sat casually on the couch, as if nothing in the world had changed.
As if she hadn't just tried to kill him.
Ryan approached quietly, his footsteps soundless. He leaned close, his breath brushing against her ear.
Then—
"HAHAHAHA… You thought you had won by poisoning me, loser?"
Ingrid jerked violently, her face draining of color.
Shock.
Pure, unfiltered shock.
Ryan straightened, a dark grin spreading across his face. "I know that look," he said softly, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.
But Ingrid recovered faster than expected.
A laugh escaped her lips—sharp and mocking.
"You must be stupid to think I poisoned you," she snapped. "But I don't blame you… you've always been just as ungrateful as your mother."
The insult hung heavy in the air.
Ryan didn't flinch.
Instead, he laughed.
"I have evidence."
Those three words shattered her composure.
He pulled out his phone and played the video.
Ingrid's eyes widened as the truth unfolded before her—Zavian… the powder… the container.
Her lips parted.
But instead of fear… denial took over.
"This is one of your tricks," she said, her voice trembling despite her effort to sound strong. "You want to blackmail me. But I won't just sit back and let you!"
Ryan chuckled, low and dangerous.
"What will you do?" he asked, his voice laced with mockery. "Plan another attack?"
Later that night, the house fell into a deceptive silence.
Ingrid lay in bed, wrapped in Zavian's arms.
Safe.
Or so it seemed.
"Baby…" she whispered softly.
"Mmm…" Zavian responded lazily.
Her voice dropped lower.
"Did you poison Ryan's food?"
The room froze.
Zavian stilled.
"…How did you find out?"
Ingrid's eyes darkened.
"He knows," she said. "He thinks I did it. And now he's threatening me."
A dangerous pause followed.
Then, her voice hardened.
"We need to eliminate him."
The words came out cold.
Final.
Zavian exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around her.
"For good?" he asked.
Ingrid didn't hesitate.
"For good."
Silence stretched between them—thick, suffocating.
Then—
"Do you have a plan?" Zavian asked.
"Not yet."
He sighed.
"Then we'll think of one tomorrow."
Ingrid nodded, resting her head against his chest.
"Okay… husband."
And just like that, beneath the quiet cover of night—
They fell asleep.
Unaware that the storm they had created…
Was only just beginning.
One poisoned meal. One deadly mistake. Now, revenge is the only thing left on the table…