For months, I felt dizzy after every dinner. My husband always said, “You're just tired from work.” But last night, I secretly hid the food he cooked and pretended to collapse on the floor. Just seconds later, he frantically made a phone call. I lay motionless, listening… and every word he said tore at my heart: “She's unconscious. Is the last dose strong enough? When will I have the money?” I bit my lip until it bled. So, what was making me dizzy… wasn't love.
Chapter 1: The Gloomy Vortex
November in Chicago always had a melancholic air, with winds whistling through the skyscrapers. Inside her 42nd-floor apartment overlooking Lake Michigan, the air should have been warm, but for Elena Vance, everything was gradually becoming as hazy as the morning mist.
Elena was a sharp financial analyst, but for the past three months, she had felt like an outdated machine. After each romantic dinner prepared by her husband, Mark Thorne, Elena would fall into a strange state. First, a slight dizziness, then a heavy feeling throughout her body, and finally, a deep, dreamless sleep until noon the next day.
“Are you dizzy again, my sweetie?” Mark approached, placing his warm hand on her forehead.
Mark was a talented but unlucky artist, at least, according to his own words. He was the “perfect” husband: a great cook, a good housekeeper, and always taking care of Elena with incredible devotion.
“I don't know, Mark. Everything's just spinning…” Elena whispered, her hand gripping the edge of the oak table.
“You're just tired from work, Elena,” Mark gently kissed her hair. “The pressure at the finance company is draining our daughter's energy. Have some more chicken soup; I've been simmering it for four hours. Then go to bed early, and you'll feel better tomorrow morning.”
Elena looked at the steaming bowl of soup. Mark always said that. Every time she complained about her health, he blamed it on work. He had persuaded her to take a month's leave, and now he was advising her to resign completely so he could take care of her. But why, even after resting, did the dizziness not subside?
Chapter 2: Suspicion Begins
That night, Elena lay awake. The dizziness was still there, but she resisted sleep. She remembered Mark's gaze as he stirred the soup. There was something… too intense. Like a scientist observing a chemical reaction, more like a husband watching his wife eat.
The next morning, while Mark was out buying art supplies, Elena did something she never thought she would: she searched her husband's study.
Everything was normal until she came across an unfinished landscape painting. Behind the frame, cleverly taped shut, was a small, unlabeled vial of powder. Inside was a fine, odorless white powder.
Elena's heart raced. She took some of the powder, wrapped it in a tissue, and quickly put everything back in its place. She had an old friend who worked in the biochemistry lab, and she needed answers.
Chapter 3: The Play Begins
That evening, Mark prepared steak with mushroom sauce – Elena's favorite dish. He poured her a glass of rich Malbec red wine.
“Cheers to your rest, Elena,” Mark raised his glass, his eyes sparkling in the candlelight.
“Thank you, Mark. I don't know what I would do without you,” Elena said, her voice surprisingly calm.
As Mark turned to go into the kitchen to get another salad plate, Elena quickly slipped her steak into a small bag hidden under her thigh, and skillfully poured the wine into the potted plant beside her. She pretended to cut food, making the sound of her knife and fork hitting porcelain as natural as possible.
Ten minutes later, Elena began her “act.”
She set the glass down heavily, her eyes glazed over. “Mark… I'm feeling… dizzy again…”
“Again, Elena?” Mark approached, his voice still gentle, but Elena sensed a hidden urgency.
“Everything… is so dark…” Elena said, her arms dropping limply, her whole body collapsing onto the hard wooden floor. Thump. A dry, sharp sound echoed. She lay motionless, eyes closed, her breathing as slow as possible.
Chapter 4: The True Face Behind the Mask
Elena lay there, her senses more acute than ever. She heard Mark's footsteps. They weren't hurried. There were no cries for help, no panic of a husband seeing his wife fall.
Instead, she heard the sound of a chair being pulled. Mark sat down beside her, silently observing. After a while, she felt his fingers touch her neck, checking her pulse.
“Good,” Mark mumbled to himself. His voice held no warmth. It was as cold as the ice on Lake Michigan.
Then came the sound of a phone dialing. Mark put it on speakerphone.
“Hello? Silas? She's unconscious,” Mark said into the phone.
Elena felt a jolt of electricity run down her spine. She bit her lip in silence, the pain so intense she wanted to scream, but she had to remain still.
A deep, husky male voice came from the other end of the line: “Is it done? Was the final dose strong enough? We can't let her wake up this time. The forensic tests for ‘spontaneous heart failure' must be perfect.”
“Don't worry,” Mark replied, his voice tinged with sickening triumph. “I've been gradually increasing the dose over the past three months. Her liver and heart have weakened considerably. Tonight is the final dose. But Silas… when will I get the money? Her $5 million trust fund, when will it belong to me?”
“As soon as the death certificate is signed and we complete the inheritance procedures.”
“You'll be a millionaire artist, Mark. And I'll get my share for arranging this,” Silas chuckled coldly.
“Alright. I'll wait another hour for the drug to take full effect before calling 911. I'll cry like a pathetic husband who lost his wife due to ‘work stress leading to a stroke'.” Everything will be perfect.
Chapter 5: Silent Fury
Mark's words were like knives tearing at Elena's heart. The man she had loved for five years, the man who had promised to protect her for life, turned out to be the one poisoning her day by day, hour by hour, for money. What had been making her dizzy all this time wasn't love, wasn't exhaustion, but a cruel murder plot.
The pain gave way to a terrifying clarity. Elena realized she was in an extremely dangerous situation. Mark was right here, and he was ready to end her life.
Mark stood up, his footsteps heading towards the balcony. Perhaps he wanted to smoke a cigarette to celebrate his early victory. This was her only chance.
Elena slowly opened her eyes. Mark was standing on the balcony, his back to her, looking out at the city lights. His phone was still on the dining table.
Elena crawled as silently as possible toward the table. She ate. Her whole body trembled, not from the drug, but from rage. She got Mark's phone. He hadn't switched it off.
She saw “Silas's” number. It was Silas Vance – her distant cousin and family lawyer. The only one who knew about the inheritance clause in Elena's trust. Those two bastards had conspired together.
Elena quickly sent all the recordings of the most recent calls (Mark had a habit of recording calls to use as blackmail evidence later, a deadly habit) to her personal email and texted a police friend for help.
Then, she returned to her original spot, lying down in the same position as before.
Chapter 6: The Final Confrontation
Mark entered from the balcony, his breath reeking of cigarette smoke. He was carrying a bottle of pills – the same bottle Elena had seen that morning – and a glass of water.
“Now, my dear Elena.” “Just one last sip, and you'll never feel dizzy again,” Mark whispered, his hand lifting her head.
At that moment, Elena's eyes snapped open.
Mark jumped, the glass of water in his hand sloshing and spilling. “E-Elena? You're awake?”
Elena glared at him with a fiery look, a look Mark had never seen on his usually gentle wife. She knocked the glass out of his hand.
“What were you trying to give me, Mark? A dose of ‘natural heart failure'?”
Mark's face changed. From surprise to panic, then quickly to ferocity. He realized the play was over.
“You heard everything, didn't you?” Mark snarled, his eyes devoid of any humanity. “You should have slept peacefully, Elena. I wanted you to die peacefully.” “But now…”
Mark lunged at her, his hands, once the artist's hands that had painted such beautiful pictures, now gripping his wife's neck. Elena struggled, trying to scratch his face.
“Do you think you'll get away? Silas's got you covered! No one can save you!” Mark screamed hysterically.
But just as Elena's vision began to blur from lack of oxygen, a loud banging on the door rang out.
“POLICE!” “OPEN THE DOOR NOW!”
The door was flung open. Mark let go, intending to run to the balcony, but the agents quickly subdued him and pinned him to the floor.
Chapter 7: Light After the Delirium
Elena coughed violently, gasping for air. She watched Mark being led away in handcuffs. He kept cursing, blaming her, Silas, the whole world.
“Elena, are you alright?” Her police friend, Jim, ran to help her up.
“I'm fine, Jim. Thank you,” Elena whispered. “Arrest Silas Vance too.” “He's an accomplice.”
Six months later.
The Thorne family's “Poison in Chicken Soup” case became a hot topic in Chicago newspapers. Mark Thorne and Silas Vance were sentenced to life imprisonment for first-degree conspiracy to murder.
Elena stood on the balcony of her new apartment, a place she had chosen herself. She no longer felt dizzy. Health checkups showed her body was miraculously recovering after the poison had been eliminated.
She held a glass of white wine, watching the sunset over Lake Michigan. She had learned the most valuable lesson of her life: Sometimes, the most terrifying poison isn't in food or wine, but in the sweet words of the person you trust the most.
Elena took a deep breath of the city air. She had lost a husband, but she had found herself again. And this time, she knew for sure that her feet were firmly planted on the ground. There are no more murky circles left.
Trust is the foundation of love, but sobriety is the foundation of survival. Never ignore your own intuition when you notice unusual signs, even if they come from your dearest loved one. Women are not weak, they are just in love, but once love is betrayed, their strength of resistance will be the sharpest weapon to seek justice.