A pregnant woman discovered a wallet near her husband’s gravestone. When she opened it, she was paralyzed by what she saw inside…

“Of course, babe, I’ll grab a bottle. You get the glasses.” Julia pressed her face to the shelf, hoping to go unnoticed. Lauren, pulling glasses from a cabinet, glanced around. Julia accidentally looked up and, in the reflection of a glass door, saw Lauren slip a white powder into Oliver’s glass.

“Let me pour for you,” Lauren cooed, distracting Oliver from the bottle and hiding the glass behind her back. She quickly filled it nearly to the brim with liquor, then handed it to him with a sultry smile. “Here,” she said, holding his gaze, “I want us to drink this to the bottom.” She took his own wine from his hand. “To our love,” Oliver whispered against her lips. “Nothing will ever tear us apart, not even death.”

“Till death,” Lauren echoed, raising the poisoned glass to his lips. In that moment, a flash of clarity hit Julia. She remembered where she’d seen Lauren. Long ago, when she’d visited her husband Victor at work, she saw a beautiful blonde at the reception desk outside his office. It was Lauren. She’d been Victor’s secretary and, apparently, moonlighted in this dark trade, charming rich men, bleeding them dry, then eliminating them.

Though Oliver was no saint, he didn’t deserve such a gruesome end. Spinning around, Julia threw the rag she’d been using at Lauren. As the schemer flinched in surprise, Julia swiftly knocked the cursed glass from her hand.

“Don’t drink it,” she gasped to Oliver. “Don’t touch anything she gives you, or you’ll die.” Oliver stared, dumbfounded, while Lauren glared at Julia with raw hatred. She looked ready to incinerate the ex-convict but instead threw herself onto Oliver’s shoulder, sobbing, “Ollie, I’m scared. Who is this lunatic?”

Julia marveled at how quickly Lauren’s rage morphed into fake fear and adoration for her wealthy fiancé. Arthur’s half-brother kept staring at the maid, his shock giving way to contempt and irritation. “What was that?” he demanded. “Explain yourself.”

“There was poison in the glass,” Julia said quickly. “I saw her slip it in while you were getting the wine. She was trying to kill you.” “What?” Oliver exclaimed. “Are you out of your mind? Lauren’s my fiancée—why would she poison me?” He looked at her hopefully. Panic flickered across Lauren’s face, but she forced a crooked smirk and scoffed, “What nonsense! You’re not buying this, are you, honey? She’s just jealous of our love, our passion. Her guy probably ditched her the second he found out she was pregnant.”

Lauren shot Julia a smug grin, daring her to respond. Though deeply hurt, Julia refused to back down. Her sense of justice was stronger. Standing tall, she looked Oliver in the eye, then Lauren. “You have no idea who you’re planning to tie your life to, Mr. Stevens,” she said coldly. “This woman may be responsible for my husband’s death and for ruining my life.”

Julia then recounted how she was accused of Victor’s murder, imprisoned, and now forced to work grueling hours just to feed herself and her unborn child, to sleep in a warm bed instead of on the street. Hearing this, Oliver was stunned. Turning to Lauren, he asked slowly, “Is this true? Were you trying to kill me?”

Lauren’s lips trembled. She nervously patted his arm, her eyes darting. “Oh, Ollie, of course not. Maybe she imagined something, got all worked up—pregnancy hormones, you know. You’d believe some maid over me? Your one and only Lauren, your love?” Oliver stared silently, but his eyes held no warmth. Unbelievably, he’d finally sensed the lie in her words.

“If it’s not true, why are you shaking, Lauren? Scared she’ll tell the cops?” Lauren backed toward the wall as Oliver loomed over her like a vengeful shadow. “Admit it—were you going to poison me?” Suddenly, he slammed his fist into the wall inches from her face, and Lauren squealed in terror.

“Yes, yes, I was going to do it,” she whimpered, like a mouse caught in a trap. Oliver’s glassy eyes held one question. “Why? For what, Lauren? I’d have given you anything you wanted.” Tears streaming down her face, Lauren sank to her knees, pleading, “Ollie, please, forgive me, I’m just so stupid. But nothing happened, right? We were so happy. You’re not going to throw it all away over some silly misunderstanding, are you?”

She clung to his hand desperately. But when Oliver turned, Julia saw only disgust and pain on his face. He’d genuinely cared for this poisoner and couldn’t accept that she’d used him for her own gain. “Get out,” he said quietly, shaking off her hands like she was a pesky insect. “Get out of my house, and I never want to see you again.”

Lauren struggled to her feet, slipping on her high heels. Her face, smeared with makeup, no longer looked seductive. With one last glance at him, she fled the office, her heels clacking down the stairs to the first floor. The villainess was gone, but Julia felt a lingering unease. She suspected Lauren was tied to her husband’s death, but had no proof beyond circumstantial hints, which only deepened her frustration.

“Thank you for opening my eyes,” Oliver said. “That woman had me completely under her spell.” “You’re welcome,” Julia replied, wincing as she felt her baby kick. Eight months was a significant milestone. Seeing her discomfort, Oliver let her retreat to her room to rest before resuming work. That was the extent of his gratitude.

A week after the Lauren incident, Oliver’s attitude hadn’t softened, nor had anything changed financially. He soon reverted to his usual arrogance, telling his mother only that he and his fiancée had split. Susan was pleased, though she hid it. She managed to pull her son back into the family business for a while.

Julia later reflected that she’d saved yet another scoundrel, as Oliver’s greed remained unchanged. He seemed to shrug off the near-poisoning like a bad dream, resuming his old ways. A few days later, Julia had a day off. She and Arthur agreed to meet at the cemetery, by his empty grave, as he thought it was safer. Julia didn’t mind—she had to think of more than just herself.

When she handed Arthur the photos she’d taken in Oliver’s office and told him about Lauren, he was astonished. “Who’d have thought our stories would connect like this,” he said, shaking his head, then promised, “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure that killer faces justice. If she worked for your husband, she might’ve been the one who visited him before he died.”..