I kept pouring champagne, my fingers tightening around the silver tray until they ached. The plain black dress I wore felt less like clothing and more like punishment. Around me, everyone sparkled—diamonds soaked in old money, power passed down like inheritance, like blood.
And then it happened.
Noel.
Vincenzo’s precious heir, his spoiled little prince, casually stuck his polished shoe out just as I passed.
I noticed too late.
My heel caught. My body lurched forward.
Crystal glasses exploded across the marble. Champagne burst onto a woman’s ivory dress, spreading like a stain that looked almost alive—like something she would never forgive.
Gasps shot through the air. The music stuttered and died.
I stood there in the center of it all, hands shaking, surrounded by shattered glass and silence.
Noel lifted his chin, smug and proud.
“She always ruins everything,” he said loudly. “Just like she ruined my baby brother.”
The garden went still.
A heavy, choking silence dropped over everyone.
Then Lena stood up slowly, one hand resting gently over her stomach. Her eyes shimmered with practiced fear, like she had rehearsed the expression in front of a mirror.