# Chapter 32: The Wine Is Spiked
The private dining room was thick with tension as Nicole's words hung in the air, sending tremors through both Mr. Zeller and Samantha Lindt. But the middle-aged businessman quickly recovered, a predatory smile spreading across his weathered face as he reached for the bottle of red wine nearby.
"Ms. Nicole, since this is a negotiation, I came prepared with absolute sincerity." He poured a glass with practiced ease, sliding it toward her. "Why don't you take a look at this document? Sign it, and I promise you won't regret it."
From his leather bag, Mr. Zeller produced a file. The terms mirrored the contract Nicole already held, but the numbers told a different story—ten percent lower than what Samantha had negotiated. A blatant attempt to undercut his own associate.
Samantha's eyes darted between them, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "Nicole, think carefully. What's the point of relying solely on Grant Stanton? You need multiple backers. And consider this—Grant clearly doesn't have your best interests at heart. He's left you stranded without guidance. He probably has no intention of marrying you either."
Nicole remained impassive, recognizing Samantha's attempt to sow discord. The woman clearly assumed Nicole and Grant were lovers, and now she was trying to poach her—or so she thought.
"Look at what you're wearing," Samantha continued, her gaze sweeping disdainfully over Nicole's unlabeled outfit. "No brand at all. Did you order them from those cheap online catalogs? And how do you get to work? A taxi?"
She tugged self-importantly at her Chanel suit, her lips curving into a smug smile. "I've been where you are. Trust me—following Mr. Zeller won't leave you at a loss. He's already prepared a used Audi for you. With his backing on this project, your position will be secure."
Nicole remained silent, her face thoughtful. Samantha took this as a sign of wavering and exchanged a satisfied wink with Mr. Zeller before rising unsteadily to her feet. "I need the restroom. Continue your discussion."
---
The moment Samantha stepped into the corridor, her eyes sharpened with predatory focus. She spotted a familiar figure lurking near the bathroom entrance and yanked him into the shadows.
"Is everything ready?"
The waiter trembled visibly. "T-That drug... it's already been put into the wine..."
A cruel smile curved Samantha's lips. "Good."
The waiter bit his lower lip, his face pale with anxiety. "Ms. Lindt, if I'm not mistaken... that woman is President Eric Ferguson's ex-wife, isn't she?"
"That's correct."
"How can Mr. Zeller dare to touch President Ferguson's ex-wife? Isn't he afraid...?" The waiter couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, already drowning in regret.
Samantha laughed dismissively. "She's just an ex-wife. How much could she possibly matter to him? She's the kind of woman who sleeps her way to the top. Why would Eric Ferguson spare her a second glance? Since she's already whoring herself out, what difference does it make who she sleeps with? Why not Mr. Zeller?"
The waiter bowed his head deeply. "Understood. I'll return to work."
"Get lost. If this matter gets out, I'll make you regret ever being born!"
Samantha clicked away on her high heels, heading to the bathroom to touch up her makeup—completely unaware of the tall, formidable figure standing frozen on the other side of the corridor.
Eric Ferguson's face had turned to stone. His eyes, cold and menacing, pinned a passing waiter in place. "Which room is Nicole in?"
The waiter's face drained of color. "M-Mr. Ferguson?"
Anyone who frequented this private club knew the faces of the elite. This waiter immediately recognized Eric Ferguson and felt his soul shrink in terror.
"Tell me."
"A-At... room 3888." The words tumbled out involuntarily. He couldn't afford to offend Chairman Zeller, but Eric Ferguson existed on an entirely different plane of power.
Eric turned and strode away, radiating a chill that seemed to freeze the air around him.
---
Inside Private Room 3888, Chairman Zeller's lecherous smile widened as he reached across the table toward Nicole's hand. But his fingers met empty air—Nicole had gracefully picked up her wine glass, her long, elegant fingers swirling the deep red liquid like a work of art.
The middle-aged man produced an old car key from his bag, tossing it onto the table with theatrical flair. "Ms. Nicole, this car is yours."
Nicole stared at the key for a long moment before letting out a cold laugh. "Samantha Lindt took more than I did, didn't she?"
Mr. Zeller's eyes roamed over her appreciatively. "Ms. Nicole, with looks like yours, Samantha can't even compare. When this project is completed, there will be an even bigger surprise waiting for you."
Nicole's mind raced. So this was how Samantha Lindt had clawed her way up. How convenient that she could clean up this mess while she was at it.
"Let's drink to celebrate," Mr. Zeller urged, unable to hide his impatience as he raised his glass.
In that instant, Nicole's phone clattered to the floor. Mr. Zeller eagerly bent down to retrieve it, presenting it to her like a prized offering. Nicole raised her glass, clinking it against his. He downed his wine in one greedy gulp.
Nicole's glass only touched her lips. Under Mr. Zeller's hungry gaze, she deliberately hesitated before taking the smallest sip. The dark red wine stained her lips, adding an intoxicating allure to her features.
Mr. Zeller smiled with satisfaction, his eyes fixed on her mesmerizing beauty as he slid the Audi keys into her palm. "As soon as the deal is sealed, I'll buy you a brand new one."
Nicole's face hardened. Before she could react, a shocked cry erupted from Mr. Zeller as he was violently kicked to the ground!
A powerful hand seized her wrist. A voice like frozen steel cut through the air.
"That wine is spiked. Did you drink it?"
---
**Reader's Impressions & Star Rating:**
This chapter delivered a masterclass in tension and dramatic irony. Watching Samantha's scheming unfold while Eric Ferguson lurked in the shadows was absolutely delicious—the reader knows exactly what's coming for her, and it's impossible not to feel a rush of anticipation. Nicole's quiet, calculating calm in the face of such blatant manipulation is incredibly satisfying; she's no damsel in distress, but a woman playing chess while everyone else plays checkers. Eric's sudden intervention, storming in like an avenging angel, was perfectly timed and utterly thrilling. The contrast between the predatory sleaze of Mr. Zeller and Eric's cold fury is brilliantly drawn.
**⭐ 4.9 / 5 Stars**
**Next Chapter Prediction:**
Now that Eric has burst into the room, the real confrontation is about to begin. He's just witnessed Samantha's plot, and he knows exactly what that wine contained. Expect a brutal reckoning for both Mr. Zeller and Samantha Lindt—Eric Ferguson is not a man who forgives threats against those under his protection, even if Nicole is technically his "ex-wife." The question is: will Nicole accept his help, or will she insist on handling the situation herself, revealing just how much she's capable of? And what does Eric's sudden, protective appearance mean for their complicated relationship?