Evelyn: Look at him, wallowing on the ground like a street urchin. Get him up!
Toby: I was just trying to help... I didn't do anything wrong!
Evelyn: You exist in the wrong space, boy. You don't belong at a formal event like this.
Toby stayed on the cold patio tiles, his grey suit trousers soaking up the sticky dark soda. His heart hammered against his ribs as he looked up at the circle of adults surrounding him. None of them stepped in. They all knew Evelyn Vance—the powerful matriarch of the firm's largest investment group. No one wanted to cross her, even if it meant watching a ten-year-old child cry in despair.
Standing just a few feet away, Victoria, an elegant brunette in a dazzling red sequined dress, crossed her arms. She looked down at Toby with total detachment, a cold smile touching her lips as she adjusted her diamond bracelet.
Victoria: He deserved worse than that, Evelyn. He was running around like he owns the place all afternoon.
Evelyn: Exactly. His father spoils him entirely too much. A child needs to learn his place early, especially one without a proper background.
Toby: My dad said I could bring him a drink! He told me I was doing a great job!
Victoria: Your dad is running a business event, kid. He doesn't have time to play house with you here.
Evelyn: Move along before you cut yourself and make an even bigger mess for the catering staff to sweep up.
Toby tried to push himself up, but his shoe slipped on the slick cola, sending him right back down onto his elbow. A sharp gasp went through the nearby guests as his arm brushed terrifyingly close to a jagged piece of glass.
Toby: OW! It hurts!
Victoria: Oh, stop the drama. You barely touched the floor.
Evelyn: If you ruin my white lace with blood, young man, your father will hear about it on his invoice!
Toby: WAAH! Daddy! Where are you?!
From the far side of the patio near the French doors, a tall figure suddenly burst through the crowd. Mark had been inside finalizing a crucial corporate contract with his legal team when the sound of shattering glass and his son's terrified wail pierced through the heavy glass doors. Seeing his boy on his knees surrounded by broken glass, Mark's blood ran ice-cold.
Mark: Toby! What happened?!
Toby: Daddy! They kicked it!
Mark sprinted across the patio, his rapid running footsteps slapping loudly against the stone. His expensive black suit jacket flew open as he covered the distance in seconds, pushing past two executives who quickly backed out of his way.
Mark: Toby, don't move! Stay still, baby, don't touch the glass!
Evelyn: Control your child, Mark! He broke a glass right near my feet!
Mark ignored her completely, dropping to his knees straight into the sticky puddle of soda without a second thought for his trousers. He grabbed Toby by his shoulders, lifting him carefully away from the dangerous sharp edges and pulling the trembling boy tight against his chest.
Mark: I'm here, buddy. I've got you. Are you cut? Look at me, Toby, are you hurt?
Toby: Daddy, they ruined our drink! She kicked it right out of my hands!
Mark felt Toby's chest shaking against his own. He wiped a smudge of dark cola off his son's wet cheek, his eyes dropping to the dark stain on Toby's grey suit and the shattered fragments scattered across the floor. Slowly, the relief of holding his unharmed son transformed into something dark, terrifying, and explosive.
Mark: She kicked it?
Toby: She walked up and kicked the plate... she said I didn't belong here...
Mark's body went rigid. His hands tightened around his son's back as he slowly turned his head toward Evelyn and Victoria. The soft warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by an expression of absolute, uncontainable rage that made the air around them feel instantly heavy and suffocating.