Chapter 2
The bright, cinematic colors of the ballroom seemed to sharpen, acting as an unforgiving spotlight on the tense interaction near the banquet tables. Daphne immediately stepped closer to the wheelchair, her protective instincts flaring as she looked at the heavy glass water pitcher in Corinne’s hand.
"She is just four years old, Corinne," Daphne said softly, keeping her American accent respectful but firm. "She has been sitting here for two hours. It is perfectly natural for her to want to be near her father."
"I did not ask for your opinion, Daphne," Corinne snapped, her rosy cheeks flushing a deep, angry crimson. She looked down at the little girl in the wheelchair. "Sadie, look at me when I am speaking to you."
Sadie shrank back into the padded backrest of her wheelchair, her tiny hands gripping the armrests. "I don't want to talk to you. I want my Daddy."
"You are going to stop this pathetic, whining behavior," Corinne hissed, stepping directly into the child's personal space. The ice inside the glass pitcher clinked menacingly. "I am going to be the lady of this estate. You are going to respect me. You are going to address me properly in front of these guests."
"Miss Vale, please step back," Daphne pleaded, her heart hammering against her ribs. "You are scaring her."
"Shut your mouth, you glorified babysitter!" Corinne spat, her temper completely overriding her aristocratic facade.
Driven by a toxic, deeply rooted jealousy of the child who held Alistair's heart, and desperate to assert her dominance, Corinne made a catastrophic, unhinged decision. She looked around, noting that several wealthy American guests were glancing in their direction.
"You want something to cry about?" Corinne whispered furiously.
Without a fraction of a second of hesitation, Corinne lifted the heavy glass pitcher. In one violent, sweeping motion, she poured the entire contents of the pitcher—a freezing cascade of ice-cold water and heavy ice cubes—directly over Sadie’s head in front of the gala guests.
The freezing water soaked the four-year-old instantly, plastering her fair hair to her rosy face and ruining her elegant formal dress. The ice cubes clattered loudly against the metal of the wheelchair and bounced across the pristine floor.
Sadie let out a breathless, high-pitched gasp of absolute shock. The sudden, freezing temperature caused her tiny body to shiver violently. She gripped the wheelchair armrests with white-knuckled intensity, her blue eyes wide with unadulterated terror.
A collective gasp swept through the nearby crowd. The polite, hushed murmurs of the gala died instantly as the guests stared in absolute horror.
May you like
Corinne stood over the freezing, trembling child, completely unbothered by the wet splash on her luxurious gown. A cruel, sadistic smile stretched across her powdered face. She leaned down, ensuring her words were perfectly clear.
"Call me Mom," Corinne said, smiling viciously, "and it stops."
