"Mr. Schwartz, the red wine you requested."
Shanley took the glass by the stem, gently swirling the rich, crimson liquid. It caught the light beautifully.
When he didn't immediately drink, the waiter’s breath hitched. Panic flickered in his eyes.
"You're dismissed," Felton ordered, stepping in with a face made of stone.
"Yes, sir." The waiter gave a jerky nod and practically sprinted away.
"Spiked?" Shanley asked in a low murmur, his eyes locked on Felton.
"The laced glass has already been intercepted and swapped," Felton reported quietly. "However, Ms. Payne instructed that you pretend the drink was spiked. The next phase of her game requires you to play along."
"Heh." Shanley let out a low, deeply affectionate chuckle, shaking his head. "What exactly is she plotting up there?"
"She's currently eating pastries in the VIP suite and watching the live feed."
"Got it."
Shanley raised an eyebrow, lifting the glass to his lips. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Sheryl Yardley lurking in the shadows, her eyes practically bugging out of her head as she waited for him to swallow.
Without a moment's hesitation, Shanley downed the glass.
A few minutes later, he stood up, swaying slightly, and pressed two fingers to his temples as if fighting off a wave of severe dizziness.
A pre-arranged staff member rushed over. "Mr. Schwartz? Are you unwell? Would you like me to escort you to a private suite to rest?"
"Sure," Shanley replied, his eyes flashing with dark, predatory amusement.
It was a smile that didn't reach his eyes. The staff member felt every hair on his arms stand up.
"Mr. Felton, there's a highly anticipated presentation coming up in just a few minutes..." one of the summit organizers intervened, looking terrified. "It really wouldn't look good if Mr. Schwartz wasn't present!"
"Is that so?" Felton stared the man down, his face an impenetrable block of ice. "My boss is unwell. But since you're insisting, I suppose I could force him to stay."
"No, no, no!" The organizer waved his hands frantically, turning ghost-pale. "I wouldn't dare dictate Mr. Schwartz's schedule! Please, his health comes first!"
"Good." Felton turned back to Shanley. "Boss, let me help you upstairs."
"Mhm."
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