Chapter 1 - The Splatter of Gold
The chilled vintage champagne dripped from Elena’s chin, pooling over the stiff collar of her black server coat. The grand ballroom of the St. Jude Estate fell dead quiet, 300 members of high society freezing mid-toast. Beatrice Vance stood tall, clutching an empty fluted glass, her layered diamond necklace gleaming under the crystal chandeliers. Across from her, Elena didn't blink. She kept her arms barred, shielding Mrs. Marian Sterling—the fragile, silver-haired matriarch shivering behind her.
Elena’s heart hammered against her ribs, but her jaw remained rigid. ""Have you no shame?"" Elena whispered, the words cutting clean through the stillness.
Beatrice sneered, tilting her head like an aristocrat inspecting filth on her slipper. ""A kitchen girl speaking out of turn. Step aside before I have you thrown into the gutters where you belong.""
Heavy footfalls struck the marble aisle behind them. The crowd parted instantly, whispers rippling like a shockwave. Julian Sterling—heir to the Sterling logistics empire—marched forward in a tailored all-black tuxedo, his towering frame casting a shadow over Beatrice. He ignored the gasps, stepping directly beside the trembling elderly woman.
""Mother... are you hurt?"" Julian’s voice was deep, laced with a terrifying calm.
Marian reached for his arm, her knuckles white around her evening clutch. ""Julian... she... she took it. She stole your father’s medallion.""
Julian slowly raised his gaze toward Beatrice. The air dropped ten degrees. ""You humiliated my mother,"" Julian murmured, his eyes locking onto Beatrice’s stiffening face. ""And you assault those who protect her.""
Beatrice forced a laugh, waving her manicured hand. ""Don't be dramatic, Julian. This pathetic caterer bumped into me. As for the medallion, it belongs to the Vance estate.""
Julian didn't look at Beatrice. Instead, he pulled a silk pocket square from his jacket and gently extended it toward Elena. Elena took it, dabbing the alcohol from her eyelashes. But as their fingers brushed, Julian’s eyes dropped to the inner wrist of Elena’s uniform, where a faded, crescent-shaped birthmark peeked past the cuff.
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Julian froze. His breath hitched so sharply even his mother noticed.
""Where did you get that mark?"" Julian demanded, gripping Elena’s wrist with sudden, startling urgency.
