Do not embarrass this family! Victoria sneered, her harsh voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying enough venom to make Clara flinch. Clara took a small step back, holding the silver serving tray like a shield against the socialite's rage. Sir, you have to listen to me, Clara pleaded, turning her eyes back to Arthur, who was watching the escalation with growing concern. Something is wrong with that decanter. It was brought down here specifically for you, but it didn't come from the main pantry. Before Clara could finish her sentence, Victoria moved with blinding speed. Her hand flew back and struck Clara across the face with a loud, violent slap that echoed off the damp stone walls. The force of the strike knocked Clara back against a rack of vintage champagne, sending a cold shiver down her spine. The stinging pain bloomed across her cheek immediately, leaving a bright red mark against her pale skin. Tears welled in Clara’s eyes as she clutched her burning face, gasping for air. Arthur gasped, stepping forward to intervene, clearly appalled by the sudden display of physical cruelty from his fiancee. Victoria, stop! Arthur yelled, reaching out to grasp Victoria's wrist. What is wrong with you? She's just doing her job!