I wanted her to look into the eyes of the child she had buried alive twenty years ago.
Victoria’s expression shifted from annoyance to sudden, chilling confusion.
She stared at my face for a long, uncomfortable moment, her lips parting slightly.
Then, the confusion hardened into absolute, venomous rage.
She turned her head and gave a sharp, subtle nod to Marcus, the head catering manager, who was hovering near the kitchen doors.
Marcus immediately hurried over, his face pale with panic.
“What are you doing?” Marcus hissed at me, grabbing my elbow and pulling me away from the table.
“I was just serving dinner,” I said softly, allowing him to drag me toward the back corridor.
Marcus pulled me through the swinging kitchen doors and shoved me into a quiet, dimly lit hallway.
“You’re done for the night,” Marcus snapped, his voice trembling. “Stay right here.”
He disappeared back into the ballroom, leaving me alone in the silent hallway.
A moment later, the heavy wooden door opened again.
Victoria Sterling stepped into the corridor, closing the door firmly behind her to block out the noise of the party.
She walked toward me, the silver crystals on her dress catching the dim light of the hallway.
“Who hired you?” Victoria asked, her voice a low, dangerous whisper.
“The catering company,” I replied, keeping my posture straight.
She stopped two feet away from me, her eyes scanning my face with a frantic, terrified intensity.
“You have a lot of nerve coming into my house and looking at me like that,” she said.
“I only looked at you,” I said evenly.
Victoria raised her hand and pointed a long, manicured finger at my chest.
“Girls like you need to learn how to stay invisible,” she sneered.
As she jabbed her finger toward me, the fabric of my white shirt pulled tight.
The top button gave way, and the silver chain around my neck slipped out, catching the overhead light.
The dark sapphire ring swung into plain view, resting against my collarbone.
Victoria stopped breathing.
All the color instantly drained from her perfectly powdered face.
She recognized the ring immediately.
“Where did you get that?” Victoria whispered, her voice suddenly entirely different.
“It belongs to my family,” I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline pounding in my ears.
Victoria took a sudden step back, her chest heaving as panic completely overtook her.
She didn't ask if I was Isabelle's daughter.
She didn't ask how I was alive.
Instead, she turned toward the door and shoved it open, catching Marcus who was standing nervously on the other side.
“Security!” Victoria hissed at him. “Get security right now.”
Marcus blinked in confusion. “Ma’am, what did she do?”
“She’s a thief,” Victoria lied smoothly, her eyes locking onto mine with desperate cruelty. “She stole an heirloom from the upstairs master suite.”
“I didn't steal anything,” I said, stepping forward, but Marcus was already pushing me back.
“Lock her in the private study,” Victoria ordered, pointing down the hall toward a heavy mahogany door.
“Lock her in there until the police arrive. If she tries to leave, have the guards physically restrain her.”
Marcus grabbed my arm violently, twisting it behind my back as he marched me down the hallway.
I struggled, kicking back, but he was twice my size and fueled by the fear of losing his lucrative contract.
He shoved me into the dark, wood-paneled study and pulled the door shut.
I heard the heavy metal lock click into place, sealing me inside.
I rushed to the door and rattled the brass handle, but it wouldn't budge.