Chapter 4
The cinematic, golden light of the chandeliers seemed to sharpen and focus entirely on the space beside the roaring hearth. Megan scrambled after Vanessa, her breathing ragged and shallow. The elegantly dressed guests gathered nearby continued to mingle, completely unaware of the psychological torture occurring just a few feet away.
"Miss Cross, I am begging you on my hands and knees," Megan wept, reaching out desperately toward the socialite's back. "That is my daughter's life! Take my life instead, just let me pay the doctor!"
Vanessa stopped directly in front of the carved marble fireplace. The small fire burned intensely behind the ornate iron grate, the flames crackling and spitting heat into the luxurious salon.
She turned to face Megan, holding the ribbon-tied envelope casually between two fingers.
"You are making a scene, Megan," Vanessa chided, her voice completely devoid of empathy. "And I abhor a scene. You should have learned your place before you dared to demand favors from your betters."
"Please!" Megan shrieked softly, her hands reaching out in a desperate, pleading gesture.
At that exact moment, three-year-old Mila wandered over to the burgundy velvet sofas situated just a few yards from the hearth. The toddler had followed Megan from the hallway, her little red shoes completely silent on the thick rugs. Mila stopped beside the sofa, staying safely away from the hot fire, but possessing a clear, unobstructed view of the two women.
Mila’s bright, observant eyes instantly locked onto the object in Vanessa's hand. The toddler recognized the bright red ribbon she had proudly helped tie around the thick white paper.
Before Megan could utter another desperate plea, Vanessa’s polished smile hardened into a mask of pure, aristocratic cruelty.
Without a moment of hesitation, Vanessa opened her fingers.
She dropped the ribboned envelope directly onto the burning fireplace logs.
The dry, thick paper caught fire instantly. The bright orange flames licked up the sides of the envelope, turning the crisp white edges to black, smoking ash in a matter of seconds. The red ribbon curled and melted under the intense heat.
"No!" Megan screamed, a guttural, primal sound of absolute devastation.
She lunged forward instinctively, her hands reaching out toward the roaring flames, entirely willing to plunge her bare flesh into the fire to save the cash that meant her child's survival.
May you like
Vanessa stepped slightly to the side, looking directly at Megan with a cold, unbothered smirk.
"Just rubbish," Vanessa stated dismissively. "Stop making a scene."
