Chapter 1
The crystal chandeliers of the Hayes estate bathed the grand ballroom in a brilliant, cinematic light. The colors of the evening were incredibly vivid, catching the sparkling diamonds and crisp tuxedos of the elite guests. It was a massive family birthday celebration, a gathering of two powerful American Mafia families attempting to maintain a fragile alliance. The room was filled with fair, rosy-skinned adults mingling over champagne, but beneath the bright and opulent surface, the atmosphere was suffocatingly toxic.
Emily Carter stood near the edge of the lavish buffet tables. At twenty-five, she possessed a breathtaking, classic American beauty, her fair skin glowing against the deep emerald fabric of her elegant evening dress. Diamond earrings framed her face, and her heavy wedding ring felt more like a shackle than a symbol of love. Beside her stood her two young daughters, four-year-old Megan and three-year-old Olivia, both looking adorable in matching pastel party dresses and shiny flats.
Olivia, hungry and tired from the overwhelming crowd, reached her tiny hand toward a massive, beautifully arranged shrimp platter resting on a low side table.
Before her small fingers could even brush the edge of the silver tray, Jessica Hayes materialized from the crowd. Michael’s sixty-three-year-old mother was a formidable, bitter woman dressed in an extravagant formal outfit that cost more than most cars. Her rosy complexion was currently twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated disdain.
"Don't touch that," Jessica snapped, her American accent sharp and dripping with venom.
Without a moment of hesitation, Jessica violently ripped the heavy shrimp platter away from the three-year-old girl. Olivia gasped, stumbling backward slightly in her little flats.
"Jessica, what are you doing?" Emily asked, her voice tight with suppressed anger as she instinctively stepped between her mother-in-law and her children. "She is just hungry."
"Then she can eat what she deserves," Jessica sneered, her eyes locking onto Emily with chilling contempt.
Jessica reached onto a nearby serving cart with her free hand, grabbing a shallow, lukewarm bowl of discarded soup and vegetable scraps—the remnants of the previous course. With a vicious, deliberate motion, she forcefully shoved the cold leftovers across the table directly toward the two little girls.
The bowl tipped violently. A wave of cold, greasy broth splashed across the pristine white linen, raining down heavily over Megan and Olivia.
The little girls cried out in shock as the cold liquid soaked into their beautiful party dresses, dripping down their rosy cheeks.
"Girls cost this family enough," Jessica hissed, her voice carrying a sickening, triumphant cruelty over the soft jazz playing in the background. "They eat leftovers."
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Emily’s blood turned to ice. She stared at the sixty-three-year-old woman, her hands trembling with a sudden, overwhelming maternal rage. "You miserable, cruel woman. They are your own granddaughters!"
"They are burdens," Jessica retorted smoothly, adjusting her heavy diamond necklace. "And until you give my son a male heir, you are a burden as well."
