Craved by the Wrong Volkov-Chapter 288: She was poisoned

Braelyn’s POV

My mind refused to process the words.

Poisoned.

When the hell did I do that? My mind screamed as I stared at Natalia dumbfounded. His jaw was clenched, and her eyes had this dead look in them that gave me chills.

The accusation sounded so ridiculous that for a moment I honestly thought I had misheard her. But the look in Natalia’s eyes held no humour, nor was there the slightest hint of this being an exaggeration.

There was no dramatic flair meant for intimidation. There was only cold certainty in her eyes.

Raphael’s grip tightened around her wrist instantly. He remained calm on the surface but somehow flickered in his eyes close to panic.

.

His voice dropped low, sharp enough to cut glass while still careful not to attract attention from the surrounding tables. "If Amelia was poisoned," he said quietly, "what exactly does that have to do with Lynn?" he hissed not budging a bit as the standoff continued.

A few curious glances were already drifting our way, guests pretending to sip their wine while clearly listening. The orchestra still played softly, the comedian’s voice echoing faintly from the stage, but around our table the air had turned suffocating.

My own voice came out colder than I felt. I held back my laugh finding this completely ridiculous.

"It has nothing to do with me," I said steadily. "If something is wrong with her, then you should be taking her to the hospital instead of dragging me around making wild accusations," I said as a matter of fact with my face blank. I didn’t understand what she was trying to do.

Natalia suddenly laughed. The sound was soft, almost amused, which somehow made it far worse.

"Oh, do you think I will not make a scene if I have to?" she murmured, her fingers digging painfully into my wrist. I gritted my teeth holding back a hiss, I wasn’t going to let her see me weak.

"You organised this entire event. The food, the drinks, the service. You had every opportunity and more than enough motive to hurt her." Natalia spat every word. The accusation in them was obvious.

Her nails pressed harder into my skin as she leaned closer.

"You will come to the hospital," she whispered, her smile thin and dangerous. "And you will pray nothing happens to Amelia." she threatened me.

Raphael’s jaw clenched. I could feel the anger radiating off him like heat, his patience snapping thread by thread. "She is not going anywhere like a criminal," he muttered.

Natalia did not release me. She was not backing out, not even slightly.

I realised then that she truly meant it. She would absolutely scream the accusation in the middle of the banquet if we refused. One scandal tonight would undo months of corporate damage control. The press, investors and board members were here. She knew the risk and maybe I wanted her to

But I wasn’t going to be the scapegoat for a scandal that might tank the stock price. We could not afford chaos.

Slowly, I placed my hand over Raphael’s. I gave him a reassuring act like the wife I was raised to be, "We should go," I said quietly, giving the smallest tug on his sleeve. "We cannot afford a scene here."

His eyes dropped to mine. For a brief second, the fury in them softened into reluctant understanding. Then he exhaled once. He saw the madness in his mother’s eyes and understood the risks involved.

"Fine," he said under his breath. He released Natalia’s hand and she let go of mine but the warning in her eyes was sharp.

His hand slid down to my waist, pulling me closer in a gesture that looked perfectly natural to any onlooker. To the rest of the hall, it would seem nothing more than a devoted husband escorting his wife out.

Raphael straightened slightly and offered a polite nod toward the nearby executives. "Apologies," he announced smoothly. "A family emergency requires our attention. Please continue enjoying the evening." he politely said with a practised smile.

His tone was calm and polite, they were in place to stop him. No one questioned him. As we turned to leave, my eyes lifted instinctively across the table and met Lucien’s gaze for a fleeting moment.

Lucien was already watching.

He had not moved from his seat, one arm draped loosely on the table holding the stem of his glass, but his gaze was anything but relaxed. It was sharp, assessing the situation with a dangerous glint just like a predator that had just sensed blood in the water.

He understood something was wrong. Then Raphael guided me forward and we left the hall.

******

The moment the banquet doors closed behind us, the music and chatter muffled into distant noise. We walked down the corridor and exited the building through the side entrance.

The cool night air rushed against my face as we stepped out to the private side entrance. Blue and red lights were flashing with a faint wail of sirens. An ambulance was already brought. My stomach twisted and I subconsciously gripped Raphael’s arm.

What was going on? No matter how much I hated Amelia I couldn’t be framed with something close to murder.

The back doors stood open under the harsh white lights.

"Make way.!" Someone commanded behind us. Raphael pulled me out of the way just for the medical staff wheeling a stretcher out of the building to pass us.

My eyes immediately locked on the person lying on the stretcher. Amelia lay on it. Her face looked pale with blood stains on her lips.

Even under the flashing lights, her body was frighteningly still while a paramedic adjusted something near her arm. The elegant evening dress that had looked so pristine on stage now seemed horribly out of place against the sterile medical equipment.

She was barely conscious..

"She is in critical condition. " a paramedic screamed as the lift her into the ambulance. Something finally flickered in Raphael’s gaze.

"What is going on?" He said. His calm expression cracked on the surface. My breathing became heavy, I sensed trouble.