Toxic Echoes

Chapter-10

The rain had cleared, leaving Chicago gripped by a humid, electric heat. Inside the house, the air conditioning hummed, but the atmosphere inside the dining room was stifling. Leo had spent the entire afternoon preparing a celebratory dinner. The downtown high-rise contract that Graham had pitched had finally been officially greenlit, and Leo’s small landscaping business was suddenly flush with capital. He was ecstatic—his innocent face practically glowing with gratitude.

He kept thinking about how this wasn’t just “luck” or a lucky break. Graham had backed him, and that meant more than Leo could easily say out loud. Tonight, Leo wanted to show that appreciation in the kindest way he knew how—making sure Graham felt welcomed, valued, and genuinely cared for.

"To partnerships," Leo said, raising his wine glass across the beautifully set table. He looked at Graham with pure, adoring friendship.

"And to the man who made it happen."

"To the future," Graham replied smoothly, clinking his glass against Leo’s. His eyes, however, slid lazily toward Lee.

Lee sat rigid in her chair, her food barely touched. She wore a simple, sleeveless black dress. It was modest, but as she reached for her water glass, Graham’s gaze tracked the movement of her bare arm with an intense, heavy focus that made her skin crawl with a hot, forbidden tension.

"You know, Leo," Graham said casually, cutting into his steak,

"Working on this project with you reminds me so much of the early days in New York. Lee used to sit in my office for hours while I drafted blueprints. She always had this habit of twisting her wedding ring when she was deep in thought. I see she still does it."

Lee immediately dropped her hand to her lap, freezing. She hadn't even realized she was doing it.

Leo blinked, his smile faltering for just a fraction of a second. A faint, unfamiliar shadow of discomfort crossed his features.

"Oh. I... I didn't know you did that back then, honey."

"She did a lot of things back then," Graham murmured, his voice dropping to a low, reminiscent tone.

He leaned back, swirling his wine.

"She used to love the smell of the cedar shavings from my pencils. And that perfume she’s wearing tonight—the jasmine one. I bought her very first bottle of it in Paris. It’s funny how some things never change, isn't it?"

The air in the room turned to ice. Lee felt a wave of nausea. She was wearing the jasmine perfume—but only because she had found an old, forgotten bottle in the back of her drawer that morning and hadn't thought twice about it. Graham had set her up, remembering the scent, and now he was making it look like a deliberate choice. A choice meant for him.

Leo looked over at Lee, his wide, earnest eyes suddenly searching her face, looking for a denial. But Lee was too stunned, too horrified by the sheer calculation of Graham’s words to speak. Her silence hung in the room like a confession.

"Anyway," Graham smiled brightly, breaking the tension as if he hadn't just dropped a grenade on their marriage.

"The steak is phenomenal, Leo. You’re a lucky man."