Page 99 of Take Me Under

His eyes softened, and for a moment, I thought he might finally open up—that he might give me the reassurance I needed. But then his expression hardened and his posture shifted, as if he were locking everything away behind an impenetrable wall.

“I already told you, Serena. It was nothing—and it’s certainly nothing worth talking about. There are more important things we need to discuss than a stupid nightmare.” His voice was even, firm, and completely dismissive of everything I had just said.

My heart sank at how easily he could brush it all aside.

“More important than this?” I stepped back, needing to create space. My voice was barely above a whisper, my chest tightening from the distance between us—not physically, but emotionally. His behavior shouldn’t hurt me this badly. After all, we barely knew each other. But at the same time, it also felt like I’d known him all my life.

Again, he didn’t answer me. Instead, he strode across the room to the desk, pulling open a drawer to retrieve a sleek black folder. When he turned back to me, his expression was hard once again. The conversation I had come here to have slipped through my fingers like sand.

And just like that, I knew.

He wasn’t going to give me the answers I needed. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

“You’re concerned about your safety, and so am I,” Anton said, placing the folder on the desk. “However, I’m not whom you have to worry about.”

“What’s this?” I asked, suddenly confused.

Anton’s expression shifted from unreadable to troubled in an instant. The gravity in his gaze sent a shiver down my spine.Whatever was in that folder—whatever he had to say—it wasn’t good.

He took a breath, exhaling slowly before speaking. “I think your father was poisoned.”

I blinked, thinking I hadn’t heard him right. “I’m sorry. What?”

“I had a medical examiner in the States review his records. Every sign and symptom point to arsenic,” he said, his voice tight.

My stomach dropped. His words didn’t make sense, seeming more suited for a twisted thriller rather than anything in real life. My breath hitched, my body tensing involuntarily. I stared at him, my heart hammering. The air in the room suddenly felt thick and suffocating. My head shook automatically, my mind rejecting what he was saying.

“No. That doesn’t—he was sick. It was sudden, and he?—”

“It wasn’t natural,” Anton interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. “Do you know anyone who might have wanted your father dead?”

Is he suggesting murder?

The idea was absurd. Impossible.

A sharp pain clenched in my chest, like invisible hands crushing me from both sides. I took a step back, shaking my head.

“My father was a good man. He didn’t have enemies.”

Anton’s eyes held steady. “You said yourself that he had jealous peers.”

“Yes, but that’s all it was—petty jealousies and industry critics. That doesn’t mean people wanted tomurderhim, Anton. The idea is crazy.” My voice cracked, my throat tightening around the last word.

“I don’t think it is,” Anton insisted, handing me a piece of paper. “Or at least, I know enough to say poison is the most likely answer for his death.”

I looked down at the document he’d given me, skimming quickly through the text. It was a medical report, detailing the symptoms of arsenic poisoning. Everything on here was nearly identical to what my father had experienced.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my mind racing.

Poison. Someone had done this to him. Someone had wanted him dead. No. That can’t be right.

My chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. My father had always been careful, meticulous in everything he did. He wasn’t a perfect man, but he was honest and good.

Who would want to hurt him? And why?

It didn’t make sense.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, barely able to force out the question.

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