164 The pretense

At the villa…

"Ah, it hurts; it really hurts." A piercing wail shattered the stillness of the villa, ripping through the opulent room like a discordant note. Esme writhed on the plush bed, clutching her stomach. Her cries of pain, loud and exaggerated, pierced Irene's ears and sent tremors of dread down her spine.

"Miss Shaw, what happened?" Irene rushed to Esme's side. She found Esme curled up in a fetal position, her face contorted in a mask of agony.

"My tummy hurts," Esme whimpered, her voice weak and trembling. "What did you give me to eat? Did you poison me?"

Irene's face drained of all color. "Poison? How could you even think that Miss Shaw?" she stammered. "Please, don't say such things."

Esme shot her a venomous glare. "Your boss locked me up here like a prisoner. And now you're trying to kill me! This stomach ache started right after I ate that food. You must have done something to it."