The grand ballroom of the Grand Crest Hotel hummed with quiet conversation under glittering crystal chandeliers.
Clara: Let go of him right now.
Eleanor: How dare you touch me, you miserable little maid!
Clara: You will not touch him again.
Clara stood firm in her plain grey hotel uniform, her grip tight around the older woman’s wrist.
Eleanor: You insolent girl! I will have you thrown out of this building before the night is over!
Clara: Try it, Eleanor. See what happens to you when the police get here.
Eleanor: You think a poor hotel waitress can threaten me? I own this entire city!
A tall man in a tailored dark brown suit stepped forward from the shadow of the velvet curtains.
Arthur: You are threatening my daughter in her own hotel, Eleanor.
Eleanor’s face paled instantly. She took a sharp, gasping breath as her eyes widened in pure horror, her hand trembling in Clara’s firm grip.
Eleanor: Arthur...? No... you died five years ago in the crash!
Arthur: I survived, Eleanor. And I watched every single thing you did to my family.
Clara: Step away from my brother, Eleanor. This gala is over for you.
Eleanor: You... you tricked me! Both of you tricked me!
Arthur: The only one who tricked anyone here was you, when you stole my late wife's estate and tried to destroy my children.
The entire ballroom went dead silent as every wealthy guest turned toward the confrontation, holding their breath for what was about to happen next.