The injustice

All eyes turned to Ava. Each face in the room was filled with questions, doubts swirling silently.

"Is he telling the truth?" Dylan asked.

Ava's lips curled into a cold sneer. "You trust him over your wife?" She had already anticipated his reaction, and it only deepened her bitterness.

"This is not what I mean," he retorted. "I'm just trying to figure out what the hell happened here."

Ava tilted her head slightly, crossing her arms tightly against her chest, her posture defiant. "Oh, really? And will you believe me if I say he spiked my drink? That he tried to take advantage of me?" There was a cold fury behind her calm tone. "If you don't believe me, you can send the wine for testing," Ava said, nodding to her wine glass on the table.

"No, no!" Mr. Moore blurted out. "Mr. Brooke, you have to believe me! I didn't spike her drink! She might have mixed something in it herself! She is setting me up!"