Husband Made Me Poison Wine; I Invited His Family

In my last life, my sister-in-law's husband wanted to start a business and asked to borrow five million from me. I refused.

My husband, away on a painting trip, heard about it and made a special trip home, bringing me a jar of medicinal liquor.

I thought he'd come to smooth things over. I never imagined he'd laced the liquor with paraquat.

In my final moments my mind stayed clear, while my body drowned in agony.

When I opened my eyes again, I couldn't stop the shiver that ran through me.

This time, I would have his whole family drink the poisoned liquor.

"Honey, look what I brought you."

My body flinched before I could think. He was back, a jar of medicinal liquor cradled in his arms.

"On this painting trip I ran into an old master healer. I begged him for days before he'd give me this jar."

"I told him all about your condition. He said as long as you drink this, you're guaranteed to be cured."

As he spoke, he broke the seal and poured out a cup.

In my last life I suspected nothing. I drank it, and he watched me coldly as I collapsed to the floor, watched me slide toward death.

Afterward he said I'd panicked over my illness and drunk some quack's liquor that killed me.

My parents were already dead. He was my only family. No one ever questioned how I really died.

He took over everything I owned and lived the good life with his whole family.

Seeing me not react, he held the cup out. "The taste is a bit harsh, sure, but good medicine is bitter. Come on, one big swallow."

What should I do?

Call the police right now and demand they test what was in this liquor?

No

That would let him off too easy.

He'd have some story ready by then. Even if the truth came out, the most he'd get is a few years in prison.

Debts are paid with money. Murder is paid with a life.

"I've been taking cephalosporin. I can't drink for the next couple of days. Pour it back for now."

I caught the clear disappointment in his eyes.

"It's medicinal liquor. It'll be fine."

"You want me dead?" I stared at him. "Cephalosporin and alcohol cause a disulfiram reaction. You know that perfectly well."

"Last year I was taking cephalosporin, and that glass of juice you gave me had alcohol in it."

"Have you forgotten how I nearly died on the operating table back then?"

"Look at my head. My fault, don't drink it yet." He quickly set the cup aside. "But whatever you do, remember to have a cup once the medication's out of your system. You'll see the effect then."

I rubbed my temples. "I'm a little tired today. Let me rest for a bit."

After he turned and left, my palms were slick with sweat.

Last year only now did I understand. That glass of juice last year wasn't a coincidence. It was deliberate. He had tried to kill me more than once.

I looked at the medicinal liquor sitting off to the side, and a plan took shape in my mind.

I called my assistant.

"Get in touch with the organizers of the Ashford City art exhibition. Whatever it costs, secure a booth for my husband."

"Chairwoman Mason, your husband's work does have a certain level to it, but this is a world-class masters' exhibition. That may be difficult."

David liked to paint, but his skill was only average. My assistant had put it politely.

Still, I had to get him out of the way.

"Throw money at it. Have the organizers call him directly. Don't let on that I'm behind it. And I want a result as fast as possible."

About two hours later, David came bounding into the room, thrilled.

"Honey, the Ashford City exhibition called me. They've reserved a booth and asked me to bring my work over."

"Come help me pack."

I got up quietly and packed his luggage, sorting out those paintings of his.

When I finished, I noticed him staring at the jar of liquor.

"Is it that fascinating? You've been looking at it for over ten minutes."

"I just feel happy." David came over and wrapped his arms around me. "I got the medicinal liquor from that miracle doctor, so your illness can be cured now, and my work's been recognized by the Ashford City exhibition."

"Two blessings at once."

I pushed him off. "All right, I know how impressive you are. Everything's packed. Have a safe trip."

"The exhibition doesn't start until the day after tomorrow. You're not feeling well, so I'll stay with you tonight."

Did he need to watch me drink the liquor before he could leave?

I didn't want to look too eager, so I forced myself to hold back for now.

That night I lay in bed, unable to sleep, terrified of what the night might bring.

Late into the night, I heard movement.

David took his phone and crept out of the bedroom.

When I heard the bathroom door click shut, I couldn't help my curiosity and padded barefoot to stand outside it.

"The Ashford City exhibition called me today and reserved me a booth. I know Maureen arranged it. She must feel guilty for refusing to lend the money and wants to make it up to me."

"Don't worry, I won't go soft over something like this. No matter how good she is to me, I'll never love her. You're the only one in my heart."

"I promised you a birthday gift, and I won't break my word. Three to five days at most, and I'll have her dead. Her death is how I'll prove my love for you."

"Mwah. I miss you too."

I couldn't hear the voice on the phone, but I could hear every word David said.

I'd thought he wanted me dead because I wouldn't lend money to his sister's family, thought his whole family just wanted to bleed me dry.

I never imagined he was cheating too.

That night was almost more than I could bear.

Early the next morning I pretended to be cheerful as I saw him off, wishing him a safe trip.

The moment he left, I pulled strings to trace where that call of his had gone last night.

When the results came back, I understood everything.

It seemed this poisoned banquet would need one more guest.

Before the plan could go forward, there were a few things I still had to arrange, so nothing could go wrong.

The day David left, I placed a video call to him.

Before I connected, I set the jar of liquor on the table in front of me.

"Honey, is this liquor really as good as you say?"

"Of course. I had to beg an old master healer just to get it."

"How much did it cost?"

"Don't worry about the money, sweetheart. For you, I'd spend everything I have."

"You're so good to me." I ran my hand along the jar. "If only you'd told me you were bringing this home. I took some antibiotics, so I can't touch alcohol for another couple of days."

I leaned over the mouth of the jar and sniffed. "The smell is pretty strong, though. You're sure it hasn't gone bad?"

David laughed. "How could it? That's the healer's own secret recipe. A strong smell is normal."

David and I talked for a long time. I even brought up the past, testing whether any conscience was left in him to stir.

He always found the right angle to slip back in, reminding me to drink the medicinal liquor he'd prepared.

After we hung up, I set the jar in the liquor cabinet.

I studied it for a long while, and only once I was certain the placement was perfect did I start reaching out to David's family, inviting them over by video call.

"Mom, Dad, I'm really sorry about the other day. I've been thinking, and I feel we should sit down and talk this through."

After inviting David's parents, I video-called his sister.

"Arlene Armstrong, I wasn't feeling well the other day, so I didn't really hear you out about your business idea. Come over to the house today and let's talk about it face to face."

Once I'd told Arlene, I contacted the most special guest of all.

Ruth Welch. Arlene's own sister-in-law.

The younger sister of Arlene's husband, and the woman David called his beloved.

"Ruth, my husband mentions you all the time. He says you love painting too. Your brother is married to David's sister, so we're practically family."

"I hear your brother wants to go into business with you. Come over to my place and we'll talk it over together."

Once I'd told everyone, I looked at that jar of liquor.