Chapter 1 - The Slap
The slap cracked across the ballroom so hard that three champagne glasses hit the marble floor.
Elena Vale stumbled sideways.
Blood appeared instantly on her lower lip.
For one long second, nobody moved.
Nearly three hundred guests stood beneath glittering chandeliers inside Manhattan’s Sterling Grand Hotel, dressed in tuxedos, diamonds, and gowns that cost more than most people earned in months.
Every face had turned toward Elena.
Yet not one person stepped forward.
Bianca Sterling slowly lowered her hand.
The thirty-two-year-old socialite looked almost pleased with herself.
Her gold dress shimmered beneath the lights as she stared at Elena’s plain black service uniform.
“Look at me when I speak to you.”
Elena swallowed.
Her cheek burned.
“I heard you.”
Bianca’s smile disappeared.
“What did you say?”
“I said I heard you.”
A few guests exchanged uncomfortable looks.
Elena bent to pick up the broken glasses.
Bianca kicked one of the pieces away.
“I didn’t tell you to clean anything.”
Elena straightened.
“What do you want?”
Another murmur moved through the room.
Bianca stepped closer.
“I want you to remember your place.”
Across the ballroom, one of the bartenders started forward.
His manager grabbed his arm.
“Don’t,” he whispered.
“That’s Bianca Sterling.”
As if the name explained everything.
In that room, maybe it did.
Bianca’s father had built Sterling Events into one of New York’s most powerful luxury event companies.
Her family sat on charity boards.
They donated to museums.
They appeared in magazines.
They could make careers.
And according to several people in the room, they could destroy them just as quickly.
Elena wiped blood from her lip.
Bianca glanced at the red mark on Elena’s fingers and smiled.
“You should be thanking me.”
“For hitting me?”
“For teaching you something before somebody less patient does.”
Elena’s eyes hardened.
“You call that patience?”
Bianca leaned toward her.
“I call it generosity.”
A phone appeared near the edge of the crowd.
Someone was recording.
Bianca noticed.
Her entire expression changed.
Suddenly she became the victim.
She turned toward the guests.
“This woman has been rude to me all night. I asked for champagne ten minutes ago.”
“I’m not assigned to your table,” Elena said.
Bianca swung around.
“Did I ask you whose table you were assigned to?”
“No.”
“Exactly.”
Elena stared at her.
“I was helping an elderly guest who fell near the staircase.”
“That’s not my problem.”
“It was his problem.”
A few guests looked away.
Bianca stepped even closer.
“You people always have excuses.”
Elena’s jaw tightened.
“You people?”
“You heard me.”
That did it.
Elena dropped the white service towel onto a nearby tray.
“I think I’m done with this conversation.”
She turned.
Bianca grabbed her arm.
Hard.
Elena stopped.
“Let go.”
“You walk away when I’m finished.”
“Remove your hand.”
“Or what?”
Elena looked down at Bianca’s fingers.
Then back into her eyes.
“Please don’t make this worse.”
Bianca laughed.
“You’re threatening me?”
“No.”
Elena’s voice became quiet.
“I’m warning you.”
The entire ballroom seemed to shrink around them.
Bianca released Elena’s arm.
Then she smiled.
“You know what?”
She lifted her hand again.
“You need another lesson.”
The ballroom doors exploded open.
Four men in dark suits entered first.
Security.
Professional.
Alert.
Then a tall man in a black tuxedo walked between them.
Adrian Vale.
Several guests recognized him immediately.
The room changed.
Adrian’s eyes swept across the crowd.
Then he saw Elena.
The blood.
The red handprint forming across her cheek.
His entire face went still.
That was somehow more frightening than anger.
He walked forward.
Nobody blocked him.
Bianca frowned.
“Who let him in?”
Adrian stopped twenty feet away.
His voice carried across the ballroom.
“Who touched my wife?”
Silence.
Bianca looked at Elena.
Then Adrian.
Then back at Elena.
She laughed.
“You’re joking.”
Adrian didn’t blink.
Bianca pointed at Elena.
“She’s not even a waitress!”
Elena slowly removed the small silver name tag from her uniform.
“No,” she said.
“I’m not.”
Bianca’s smile finally vanished.
Adrian walked toward them.
But before he reached his wife, another sound cracked through the ballroom.
SLAP.
Bianca staggered backward.
Her hand flew to her cheek.
Elena stood in front of her, breathing hard.
“I told you,” Elena said quietly, “not to make this worse.”
Bianca stared at her in disbelief.
“You hit me?”
“No.”
Elena’s eyes stayed locked on hers.
“I stopped letting you hit me.”
Bianca opened her mouth.
Adrian raised one hand.
“Don’t say another word.”
Then one of his bodyguards approached and whispered something in his ear.
Adrian’s eyes shifted toward Bianca’s father across the ballroom.
His expression changed.
“What?” Elena asked.
Adrian looked at her.
“The police are already downstairs.”
Bianca froze.
May you like
Adrian continued.
“And they’re not here because of the slap.”
