Chapter 2
For three full seconds, nobody moved.
Then Victoria lunged.
Victoria: GIVE ME THAT PHONE!
Clara jerked backward.
Arthur stepped between them.
Arthur: Victoria!
Victoria stopped so suddenly that the diamonds around her neck trembled.
Every guest in the ballroom was staring.
The live musicians had stopped playing.
Several people had already lifted their phones.
Victoria looked around and realized the nightmare was no longer private.
Victoria: Arthur, you cannot seriously believe some waitress over your own wife.
Clara: Then watch the video.
Arthur turned toward Clara.
Arthur: Play it.
Victoria: Arthur—
Arthur: I said play it.
Clara pressed the screen.
The video showed a service corridor behind the ballroom.
The image shook slightly because Clara had been recording from behind a stack of linen carts.
Victoria appeared on the screen.
She looked left.
Then right.
Then she opened her jeweled handbag.
She removed a tiny glass vial.
The ballroom erupted in whispers.
On the recording, Victoria reached toward one of three wine decanters waiting on a service table.
She poured something inside.
Then she tied a small gold ribbon around the neck.
Victoria's recorded voice came through clearly.
Victoria: This one goes to Arthur. Nobody else.
The video ended.
Arthur slowly looked at the decanter on the table.
A gold ribbon was tied around its neck.
His face changed.
Victoria: That proves nothing!
Clara: There is more.
Victoria's confidence cracked.
Clara swiped to another video.
This one showed Victoria speaking with the catering supervisor fifteen minutes earlier.
Victoria handed him an envelope.
Victoria: I want the new girl to serve my husband's table. The brunette. Clara.
Supervisor: Why her?
Victoria: Because I am paying you not to ask questions.
The supervisor slipped the envelope into his jacket.
The recording ended.
Guests began talking louder.
Victoria: This is edited!
Clara: It was recorded less than an hour ago.
Victoria: You could have created it!
Clara: In an hour?
Victoria: People can fake anything now!
Arthur stared at his wife.
Arthur: Why did you choose her?
Victoria: I didn't.
Clara: You did.
Arthur: Why?
Victoria pointed at Clara.
Victoria: Because she is lying!
Arthur: Then answer one simple question. What did you pour into my wine?
Victoria went pale.
Clara watched her carefully.
For the first time, there was no anger in Victoria's eyes.
There was fear.
Victoria: A supplement.
Arthur: What supplement?
Victoria: Something your doctor recommended.
Arthur: My doctor is standing twenty feet away.
Heads turned.
An older man in a navy suit slowly approached.
Dr. Harris had been Arthur's private physician for almost fifteen years.
Dr. Harris: I recommended no supplement to Mrs. Vance.
Victoria's lips parted.
Arthur: Victoria?
Victoria: You probably forgot.
Dr. Harris: I document everything I prescribe.
Arthur: What was in the vial?
Victoria: Vitamins.
Clara: Then drink it.
The ballroom went silent again.
Victoria stared at Clara.
Clara reached for the decanter.
Clara: If it is harmless, pour yourself a glass.
Victoria backed away.
Victoria: Don't be ridiculous.
Clara: Why?
Victoria: Because I don't drink red wine.
Clara: You were drinking red wine twenty minutes ago.
A guest near the front murmured, “She was.”
Victoria's eyes flashed.
Arthur raised one hand.
Arthur: Nobody touches the decanter.
He looked toward his head of security.
Arthur: Mason.
A tall man in a dark suit approached immediately.
Mason: Sir.
Arthur: Lock the ballroom doors.
Victoria stared at him.
Victoria: What?
Arthur: Nobody leaves until we understand what just happened.
Victoria: You are holding five hundred people hostage because of a waitress?
Arthur: I'm protecting evidence.
Victoria: Evidence?
Arthur: Someone may have tried to poison me.
The word hit the room like an explosion.
Poison.
Guests began moving uneasily.
Mason spoke into his radio.
Arthur: Call the police.
Victoria: Arthur!
Arthur: And keep that decanter untouched.
Victoria grabbed his sleeve.
Victoria: Think about what you're doing.
Arthur looked down at her hand.
Arthur: I am.
Victoria lowered her voice.
Victoria: This scandal will destroy the company.
Arthur: If someone tried to kill me, the company is not my biggest concern.
Victoria: She wants money.
Clara: I haven't asked for a dollar.
Victoria: Yet.
Clara: I came here to work.
Victoria laughed bitterly.
Victoria: You came here carrying a phone and spying on me.
Clara's jaw tightened.
That was the first accusation that seemed to affect her.
Arthur noticed.
Arthur: Is that true?
Clara hesitated.
Victoria saw it.
Victoria: There! Look at her face!
Arthur: Clara.
Clara: I came here to work.
Arthur: That's not what I asked.
Clara looked directly into his eyes.
Clara: I was also watching your wife.
Another wave of murmurs spread through the room.
Arthur: Why?
Clara: Because I had a reason to believe something would happen today.
Victoria: Arrest her!
Arthur: Be quiet.
Victoria froze.
Arthur had never spoken to her that way in public.
Arthur turned back to Clara.
Arthur: What reason?
Clara swallowed.
Clara: Someone sent me a message three days ago.
Arthur: Who?
Clara: I don't know.
Victoria: Convenient.
Clara pulled up another screen.
Clara: The message said, “If you want to know what really happened to your father, get a job at the Vance gala. Watch the gold decanter.”
Arthur stopped breathing for a moment.
Victoria's face drained of color.
Arthur: Your father?
Clara nodded.
Arthur: What does your father have to do with me?
Clara stared at him.
Her anger disappeared.
Something more painful replaced it.
Clara: His name was Jonathan.
Arthur's entire body stiffened.
Around them, guests continued whispering.
But Arthur no longer heard them.
Arthur: Jonathan what?
Clara's eyes filled with tears.
Clara: Jonathan Vance.
Victoria whispered one word.
Victoria: No.
Arthur looked at her.
Then at Clara.
Arthur: Jonathan Vance was my son.
Clara: I know.
Arthur's voice became almost inaudible.
Arthur: My son died twenty-four years ago.
Clara: Yes.
Arthur: He had no children.
Clara reached beneath her collar and pulled out a thin silver chain.
A small ring hung from it.
Arthur stared.
His knees nearly gave way.
It was a simple silver signet ring.
The initials J.V. were engraved on the front.
Arthur had given it to Jonathan on his eighteenth birthday.
Arthur: Where did you get that?
Clara: My mother.
Arthur: Who is your mother?
Clara: Elena Marquez.
Arthur closed his eyes.
The name struck harder than the video.
Victoria stepped backward.
Arthur opened his eyes again.
Arthur: Elena was Jonathan's girlfriend.
Clara: She was more than that.
Arthur: What are you saying?
Clara's voice cracked.
Clara: I'm saying Jonathan Vance was my father.
A woman dropped a champagne glass.
It shattered.
Arthur stared at Clara as though the entire ballroom had disappeared.
Victoria shook her head violently.
Victoria: She's lying.
Clara: My mother has his letters.
Victoria: Forged.
Clara: Photographs.
Victoria: Fake.
Clara: And a DNA test from one of Jonathan's personal belongings.
Victoria: Impossible!
Clara slowly turned toward her.
Clara: Why are you so scared?
Victoria said nothing.
Clara stepped closer.
Clara: You recognized me when I walked into the service corridor this morning.
Victoria: I have never seen you in my life.
Clara: You dropped your glass.
Victoria: Because you bumped into me!
Clara: I was six feet away.
Arthur looked at Victoria.
Victoria: Arthur, don't listen to this.
Clara: She knew my mother.
Victoria's head snapped toward her.
Clara: Didn't you?
Victoria: No.
Clara: Elena Marquez.
Victoria: I said no!
Clara: Then why did you pay her thirty thousand dollars in 2002?
Arthur turned sharply.
Arthur: What?
Clara pulled a folded photocopy from her apron.
She handed it to him.
Arthur unfolded it.
It was an old bank record.
A transfer.
Thirty thousand dollars.
Sender: Victoria Vance.
Recipient: Elena Marquez.
Arthur looked up.
Arthur: You told me you had never met her.
Victoria struggled for an answer.
Before she could speak, the ballroom doors opened.
Two uniformed police officers entered with a detective.
The detective moved toward Arthur.
Detective: Mr. Vance?
Arthur barely looked at him.
His eyes stayed on his wife.
Arthur: Detective, I believe someone tried to poison me.
Victoria: Arthur, please.
Arthur pointed at the decanter.
Arthur: Start with that.
Then he held up the old bank record.
Arthur: And after that, I want to know why my wife paid the mother of my dead son's child to disappear.
Victoria's face collapsed.
But before anyone could question her, a young man pushed through the crowd.
Daniel Vance.
Arthur's only surviving son.
Daniel: Dad!
Arthur turned.
Daniel had clearly been running.
His face was pale.
His tie hung loose around his neck.
Daniel looked at the police.
Then the wine.
Then Clara.
And finally Victoria.
Daniel: Don't drink anything.
Arthur stared at him.
Daniel's voice shook.
Daniel: I found something in Mom's office.
Victoria's expression turned to terror.
Daniel reached into his jacket.
He pulled out a sealed white envelope.
Arthur: What is it?
Daniel looked at his mother.
Daniel: A copy of your will.
Victoria: Daniel, shut your mouth.
May you like
Daniel swallowed.
Daniel: Dad, somebody changed it.
