Chapter 3
The clatter of crystal glasses and the low hum of affluent conversations provided a rhythmic backdrop to the Christmas Eve festivities. Elena sat down heavily on a plush velvet ottoman beside a small walnut table, pulling Poppy onto her lap. She kept her puffy, exhausted eyes focused entirely on the toddler, desperately trying to remain invisible in the center of the room.
"Look at the lights, Mommy," Poppy said, pointing a tiny finger at the towering Christmas tree.
"They are very beautiful, Poppy," Elena whispered, her voice shaking as she kissed the top of the girl's soft curls.
From across the polished marble floor, Celine Mercer watched the interaction. The socialite excused herself from a group of donors, her burgundy satin gown rustling loudly as she stepped deliberately toward the velvet ottoman. She carried a sleek, open shoebox in her hands.
Elena froze as the shadow fell over her. Her hands gripped the fabric of her rumpled apron so tightly her fingers ached. She wanted to stand up and run, but she was trapped in the luminous, crowded salon, surrounded by fifty dangerous guests.
Celine stopped directly beside the walnut table. She set the open shoebox down with a sharp, echoing clack. Inside the box rested a pair of brand-new, elegant black flats, lined with pristine white tissue paper.
"You look absolutely pathetic, Elena," Celine whispered, her voice dropping into a quiet, venomous register meant only for the terrified maid. "Your uniform is a disgrace to this estate."
"I am sorry, Miss Mercer," Elena choked out, refusing to meet the woman's eyes.
"I have brought you a replacement for those worn-out shoes you insist on wearing," Celine continued, her tone light and conversational, masking the lethal intent beneath her words. She turned her body slightly, ensuring the nearby guests saw only a benevolent future wife gifting a servant.
Celine looked directly at Elena. The socialite maintained her polished, flawless public smile, but her eyes burned with malicious, lethal triumph.
May you like
"Go ahead," Celine commanded quietly. "Put them on."
Elena stared down at the black flats. A suffocating wave of terror washed over her. She knew the woman standing above her was a monster. She knew that accepting a gift from Celine was like stepping into a bear trap, but refusing a direct order in front of the syndicate capos was an insult that could cost her life.
