Chapter 5 - The Invitation
“Release her.”
The voice was low, gravelly, and carried the terrifying authority of a man who owned half the skyline outside the hotel windows.
Arthur Vanderbilt pushed his way through the stunned crowd, his face pale, his eyes darting frantically between his sobbing daughter on the floor and the blood slowly dripping down my cheek.
“Dad! Dad, fire her! Have her arrested! Sue her into the stone age!” Chloe wailed, scrambling to her feet with the help of a terrified socialite friend. “She assaulted me! Look at my face!”
Arthur ignored her. He stepped closer, his imposing figure towering over me as the guards held my arms. He looked into my eyes—eyes he hadn't seen in two decades, but eyes that carried an unmistakable family resemblance he spent millions trying to bury.
Arthur’s breath hitched. The color drained entirely from his face, leaving him looking like a corpse in a tuxedo.
“You...” Arthur whispered, his voice trembling so violently the microphone on his lapel picked up the static click. “No... that’s impossible. You were just a child.”
May you like
I tilted my head, looking him dead in the eye.
“Hello, Uncle Arthur,” I said softly, the words cutting through the silent ballroom like a scalpel. “Did you really think you buried my mother deep enough?”
