The double doors opened wide, and wealthy guests began flooding into the spacious home.
Men in black tuxedos and women in bright dresses walked across the gleaming floors.
They whispered to each other while glancing at Arthur sitting motionless in the middle of the room.
Victoria put on a bright smile and greeted every guest with practiced grace.
She spoke loudly about how tough it was to care for an ailing billionaire husband.
She mentioned that signing the legal power of attorney documents was a heavy burden on her heart.
Arthur listened silently as his wife spun her carefully crafted web of lies.
Sarah returned with a silver tray to check if Arthur wanted a cup of warm tea.
She knelt beside him once more, touching his legs gently to ensure his cover was still straight.
Maid: Are you all right, sir?
Arthur looked down into the young woman's worried eyes.
He felt a rush of strength flowing through his legs that he had hidden for weeks.
He gripped the armrests tightly with both of his large hands.
The leather creaked under the immense pressure of his muscular fingers.
With a slow and steady movement, Arthur tossed the plaid blanket straight to the floor.
He placed his polished black shoes flat against the polished white marble.
The chatter in the ballroom died down instantly as people turned their heads in confusion.
Victoria gasped sharply, reaching out her hand to push him back down.
Arthur stood straight up out of the wheelchair without holding onto anything.
He reached his full six-foot frame, towering over his wife and the surrounding crowd.
Man: I don't need this anymore.
The room fell into complete and total silence.
A woman near the back dropped her champagne glass, letting it shatter on the stone floor.
Arthur adjusted his suit jacket with a completely calm and steady expression.
His legs were strong, and his stance was firm.
Victoria stumbled backward, her face turning completely white as she stared at her husband.