The bright morning light spilled through the massive glass windows of the grand luxury ballroom. High white walls and polished light marble floors reflected the sunshine, giving the huge hall a warm and inviting glow. On the main wall hung a prominent American flag, standing tall above the silver tables setup for the annual charity event. Wealthy business leaders, city officials, and guests in fine suits walked around, holding champagne glasses and laughing softly. Among them was Arthur Vance, a well-known middle-aged billionaire CEO who had built his vast real estate empire from the ground up over thirty tough years.
Arthur wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead. He had spent the entire morning delivering speeches, answering heavy legal questions about his vast estate, and shaking hands with city donors. His dry throat felt like sandpaper. He walked over toward the beverage station near the main stage, looking for a simple glass of cold water to cool himself down. Standing a few feet away was his beautiful second wife, Victoria. She wore a dark emerald green dress that caught everyone's eye, along with heavy gold jewelry and an icy smile that rarely reached her sharp eyes.
Victoria watched Arthur walk toward the drink table. Her hands were slightly tense as she adjusted her gold necklace. For months, Victoria had been secretly meeting with a ruthless divorce lawyer, trying to figure out how to claim Arthur's multi-million dollar inheritance without going through a long court battle. When she learned about his newly signed life insurance policy and the strict prenup that gave her almost nothing if they divorced, her cold heart made a dark choice. She did not want half of his money in a messy divorce settlement. She wanted the entire estate, the mansion, and the trust fund all for herself.
Arthur picked up a heavy crystal glass filled with ice water. He raised it toward his lips, taking a deep breath of relief. But before the cold rim could touch his mouth, quick footsteps echoed across the marble floor. A young fair-skinned waitress named Clara rushed out from behind the service curtain. Clara wore a simple burgundy vest over a crisp white shirt, with a modern, high-tech smart watch wrapped securely around her left wrist. She saw the glass inches from Arthur's mouth and sprinted forward without holding back.
With a quick and desperate swing of her hand, Clara knocked the crystal glass straight out of Arthur's grip. The glass flew through the bright air and crashed onto the light marble floor with a sharp, shattering sound. Water and sharp crystal pieces splashed across the polished ground, soaking the hem of Victoria's dark green dress. The entire ballroom went dead silent as guests turned around in shock. Arthur stepped back, his face turning red with sudden confusion and anger as he stared down at the wet mess on the floor.
Arthur: What on earth are you doing?!
Clara: Sir, please do not drink that! You were in danger!
Arthur: Are you out of your mind? You just ruined a five thousand dollar suit!
Before Clara could explain what she had seen, Victoria stepped forward with a loud gasp of rage. Her face turned pale and then bright red as she glared at the young waitress. Victoria raised her right hand high in the bright daylight and swung it down with brutal force. A loud, heavy slap echoed across the high ballroom ceilings as Victoria's palm struck Clara hard across the cheek.