Chapter 219

The fluorescent lights in the morgue cast a cold glow over Fiona Valentine's pallid face.

Evelyn Roland's fingers trembled as she unlocked her phone. The surveillance footage played again.

In the video, Fiona emerged from the pharmacy clutching a small box.

The words "Amino-based drug" gleamed harshly under the sunlight.

She tilted her head back and swallowed a pill.

Then she pulled out a bottle of red wine from her bag and gulped down half of it.

"She had no idea this drug could have a lethal reaction with alcohol." Evelyn's voice was raw.

Sebastian Valdemar placed a steadying hand on her shaking shoulder.

Fiona's mother suddenly threw herself over her daughter's body. Her anguished wails echoed through the corridor.

"My baby... why would you do this..."

Fiona's father collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down his weathered face.

Evelyn clenched her fists so tightly her nails drew blood from her palms.

As they stepped out of the morgue, Sebastian spoke abruptly. "This wasn't an accident."

Evelyn's head snapped up.

"Fiona wasn't clever enough to stage this kind of setup." His eyes darkened.

Their gazes locked. Without another word, they turned and sprinted toward the hospital office.

A doctor handed them a canvas bag.

Evelyn pulled out a phone. The lock screen illuminated, displaying Sebastian's birthday.

Sebastian's brow furrowed.

In the call log, the name "Isabella Langley" stood out like a neon sign.

"It was her all along."

At the Roland family villa, Isabella leaned against the doorframe, her red lips curling in mockery.

"That idiot is finally dead? What wonderful news."

Evelyn seized her wrist. "You told her to take those pills?"

"Let go!" Isabella wrenched free. "She chose to kill herself. Not my problem."

"Do you have any idea what that combination does to a person?"

Isabella threw back her head and laughed. "Don't play saint now. Weren't you praying for her death when she ruined your life?"

Evelyn's expression turned glacial.

"I'll prove it was you."

As she turned to leave, Isabella's icy whisper followed her. "Dead girls tell no tales."

The funeral wreaths still lingered at the entrance of Château Blanc.

Though the police had cleared the winery's name, customers had vanished like morning mist.

"Bad luck," a server muttered under his breath.

Evelyn stood in the empty hall, crushing the pill box in her grip.

The surveillance footage replayed in her mind.

Fiona collapsing.

Isabella's triumphant smirk.

This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.