Chapter 1 - THE SHATTERED GLASS
The dining room of the Vance estate breathed old money,
and it felt like a cage.
A massive crystal chandelier cast a warm,
deceptive glow over the mahogany table,
which was laden with a lavish Thanksgiving feast.
But for Elena,
the warmth stopped at the threshold.
I suppose in whatever backwater village you crawled out of,
Thanksgiving isn't a thing,
Beatrice,
Elena’s sister-in-law,
sneered as she swirled her red wine.
But here,
we expect our guests,
even the charity cases my brother marries,
to at least know which fork to use.
Elena kept her head down,
her knuckles white as she gripped her napkin.
She had spent three years enduring the Vance family's silent cruelty,
all for the sake of her husband,
Richard.
She had left her home country,
working three jobs to put herself through school,
only to be treated like an unwanted servant in this mansion.
Beatrice,
please,
Elena murmured,
her voice trembling but polite.
I am trying my best.
Your best is an embarrassment,
Victoria Vance,
the family matriarch,
cut in.
Her voice was like ice.
She looked at Elena’s simple,
elegant dress with disgust.
Look at you.
You look like a maid who snuck into the dining room.
Richard,
I still don't understand how you let this immigrant ruin our family's reputation.
Especially now,
when the Vance Group is on the brink of collapse.
Elena looked at Richard,
silently begging him to defend her.
But Richard just stared at his plate,
refusing to make eye contact.
He was too cowardly to stand up to his mother,
especially when his family's company desperately needed a multi-million dollar grant from a prestigious state-run charity trust to survive.
Mother,
stop,
Richard muttered half-heartedly.
Elena worked hard on the side dishes today.
Oh,
did she?
Beatrice laughed mockingly.
She stood up,
grabbing the heavy,
silver boat filled with piping hot turkey gravy.
Let’s see if her cooking is as cheap as her background.
Beatrice walked over,
standing right behind Elena.
With a smirk,
she pretended to slip,
deliberately tipping the entire boat of scalding gravy directly over Elena’s shoulders and chest.
Ah!
My hand slipped!
Beatrice gasped with fake innocence.
The boiling liquid soaked through Elena’s dress,
instantly scalding her skin.
Elena cried out in pain,
instinctively jumping up from her chair.
The sheer shock and agony made her stumble backward.
Seeing her try to escape,
Victoria stood up in a rage.
How dare you make a scene at my table!
With a cruel,
heavy push,
Victoria shoved Elena away.
Elena lost her balance completely.
She crashed backward into a glass display cabinet.
The impact shattered the glass panels,
sending heavy crystal vases and wine glasses raining down around her.
Elena hit the hardwood floor hard.
A sharp piece of broken crystal sliced deep into her palm as she tried to brace her fall.
Blood,
bright red and pooling quickly,
began to mix with the hot gravy staining her dress.
Her skin burned,
her hand bled,
and her heart shattered.
She looked up from the floor,
tears streaming down her face,
hoping for even a shred of humanity from her husband.
But Richard only looked at the broken glass in horror.
Elena,
look what you did!
That cabinet was an antique!
You’ve ruined Thanksgiving!
In that moment of absolute betrayal,
looking at the cold,
mocking faces of the Vance family and the pathetic cowardice of her husband,
something inside Elena broke,
but something else hardened.
The pain of her burns and cuts faded beneath a sudden,
freezing wave of resolve.
They had no idea who she really was.
May you like
And soon,
they would pay for every single drop of blood they made her bleed.
