Toast with Blood

I never imagined my birthday would end in blood.

Hallstatt had always been my dream—a town straight out of a fairy tale, tucked between towering mountains and a shimmering lake. It was the perfect place for a celebration, for romance, for new beginnings. But most importantly, it was the perfect place to end something that had been long overdue.

Nikhil had planned the evening flawlessly. A secluded villa perched on a cliff, a candlelit dinner, soft music humming in the background. Everything was perfect.

Except for one thing.

Subhash.

The four of us had been close for years—me, Nikhil, Rose, and Subhash. But some people don’t know their place. Some people mistake kindness for an invitation, silence for consent. And Subhash… he had crossed that line too many times.

That evening, as we sat at the dinner table, toasting to my birthday, I felt the weight of the moment settling over me. My fingers traced the edge of my wine glass, and for a fleeting second, I caught Rose’s eyes. There was something unreadable there.

Then, Nikhil slid a small velvet box toward me.

My breath caught. I knew what was coming.

“Mariya,” he whispered. “Marry me.”

A hush fell over the table. Rose stiffened beside me. And across from me, Subhash’s expression twisted, just for a second. A flicker of something dark, something possessive.

I barely heard myself whisper, “Yes.”

Cheers erupted. Nikhil slipped the ring onto my finger, pressing a kiss against my knuckles. But all I could feel was the heat of Subhash’s stare boring into me.

It had to be tonight.

We left the villa after dinner, taking a walk down the cobblestone path that led to the lake. The mist curled around us, thick and suffocating. The perfect cover.

Then, it happened.

A scream. Sharp, jagged, shattering the silence.

I turned, feigning panic. “Where’s Subhash?”

Nikhil’s grip tightened around my hand. Rose stood frozen, her eyes darting wildly.

Nikhil switched on his phone’s flashlight. The beam cut through the fog, revealing a figure slumped at the edge of the pier.

Blood pooled beneath his head. His body was still.

Subhash was dead.

I let out a strangled sob, falling into Nikhil’s arms. Rose didn’t move. She just stood there, staring at Subhash’s lifeless form, her face eerily pale.

The villa’s caretaker, Klaus, must have heard the scream. Within minutes, sirens wailed through the town, blue and red lights slicing through the darkness.

The Investigation

Detective Hans Weber arrived with his team, a towering man with ice-cold eyes. He examined the body in silence before finally speaking.

“No signs of struggle,” he murmured. “Blunt force trauma. Someone struck him from behind.”

Murder.

The word sent a delicious chill through me.

Weber turned to us. “You were the last people with him. I need the truth.”

I forced myself to tremble, my voice barely above a whisper. “We were just walking. And then… then he was gone.”

Nikhil clenched his jaw. “We didn’t hear anything. Just the scream.”

Weber’s sharp gaze lingered on each of us before he issued his orders. “Search the villa. Every inch.”

Hours passed. The villa, once warm and inviting, was now a crime scene. But the best part? There was no evidence.

Because I had been careful.

Unraveling the Lies

The next morning, Weber gathered us again. The storm outside raged, the wind howling against the windows.

“I have questions,” he said, his voice cutting through the tense silence.

He turned to Rose first. “Your relationship with the deceased?”

Rose hesitated. “We were… friends.”

“Just friends?”

A flicker of something crossed her face. “Yes.”

Weber studied her carefully before shifting his attention to Nikhil.

“Did you like Subhash?”

Nikhil scoffed. “What kind of question is that?”

“A necessary one.”

Nikhil exhaled sharply. “Subhash was complicated. But I had no reason to hurt him.”

Then, Weber turned to me. “Miss Mariya, did Subhash ever make you uncomfortable?”

A perfect question.

I lowered my gaze, playing my part flawlessly. My voice trembled. “He… he had feelings for me.”

Nikhil stiffened beside me. Rose’s fingers curled into fists.

“He never said it outright,” I continued, voice barely above a whisper. “But I knew.”

Weber leaned forward. “Jealousy. Unrequited love. A motive.”

I let out a shaky breath. “Subhash wasn’t the type to hurt anyone. But maybe someone else thought differently.”

I let my gaze flicker toward Rose.

Just for a second.

The Perfect Setup

That evening, Weber stood before us again. This time, his expression was different.

“I have the autopsy report,” he said. “The blow to Subhash’s head was delivered with great force, likely by someone he knew. No external struggle. Which means…” He turned toward Rose. “The killer was close.”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Rose’s face remained blank. “You think it was me?”

Weber stepped forward. “Subhash was in love with Mariya. But you… you were in love with Subhash, weren’t you?”

A sharp gasp. I turned to Rose, eyes wide in feigned shock.

“No,” she whispered. But her voice shook.

“You loved him,” Weber pressed. “But he loved Mariya. And when you saw the proposal, when you realized you’d never have him… you snapped.”

Tears welled in Rose’s eyes. She turned to me, her face desperate. “Mariya, you know I wouldn’t—”

But I took a step back. Let my silence speak for itself.

I watched as realization dawned in her eyes.

She k

new.

She knew it was me.

But it was too late.

The police led her away. I watched, my expression carefully crafted—shocked, heartbroken