"I believe you heard me, Mother," Angelo told Charlotte confidently. The smile lining his lips was that of a serious man as he held out his glass for his stepmother to drink.
Charlotte stared at the glass being presented to her by Angelo, and Emily could almost swear that she saw a bead of sweat running down Charlotte's forehead.
"Oh, thanks for being considerate, but as you can see, I've just had my own drink, and it's enough for me," she responded happily as she tried to downplay Angelo's order.
Charlotte's pupils widened at the sight of Angelo; in a split second, he had gone from smiling to having his smile wiped off his face. One would even say he was out for blood—Charlottes' blood in particular.
"I will not ask again; take this glass and drink from it," he ordered. His tone of voice was firmer, and his face was like a rock.
"But why would you?"
"Because I have been informed that this glass contains poison!" He yelled.