Chapter 8 - The Sabotage
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The encounter with O'Rourke left Charlene shaking for hours, but it was Bethany who truly weaponized the vulnerability.
Two days before the grand autumn gala, the mansion was a frantic hive of activity. Florists delivered massive arrangements of white orchids, and caterers shouted orders in the kitchen. Bethany was in her element, marching through the corridors with a clipboard, acting as the undisputed queen of the castle.
Charlene was carefully carrying a stack of crystal champagne flutes across the grand foyer. The box was heavy, and her center of gravity was entirely compromised by the pregnancy.
Bethany appeared at the top of the marble staircase, observing the bustling preparations. When she spotted Charlene struggling with the crystal, a malicious, dark idea formed in her eyes.
She gracefully descended the stairs, timing her steps perfectly.
As Charlene approached the base of the staircase, Bethany deliberately stepped directly into her path and sharply thrust her elbow outward, catching Charlene hard in the shoulder.
The impact was violent. Charlene stumbled backward, crying out in alarm. The heavy box of crystal slipped from her hands, crashing onto the marble floor with a deafening, shattering explosion of glass.
Charlene fell hard onto her knees, twisting her body aggressively to ensure her stomach didn't hit the stone. The sharp pain that ripped through her lower back was agonizing.
“Watch where you’re going, you clumsy idiot!” Bethany shrieked, playing the victim instantly as staff members froze in horror. “You nearly knocked me over!”
Charlene gasped for air, clutching her swollen belly, tears of pain springing to her eyes. She knelt amidst the shattered crystal, completely helpless.
“Look at this mess!” Bethany continued, towering over her. “You ruined thousands of dollars of crystal! You are entirely useless! I’m going to have Dominic throw you out into the street tonight!”
“Miss Garcia.”
The voice was cold, sharp, and cut through the foyer like a whip.
Vincent Moretti stepped out of the adjacent hallway. He didn't look angry; he looked like an executioner. He walked straight past Bethany, completely ignoring the Senator’s daughter, and knelt carefully in the broken glass beside Charlene.
“Are you hurt?” Vincent asked softly, his large hands gently helping her upright.
“My back,” Charlene sobbed quietly, leaning heavily against his arm.
“Vincent, she just destroyed the gala glasses!” Bethany demanded, infuriated by his blatant disregard for her authority.
Vincent stood up, shielding Charlene behind his broad shoulders. He turned his dark, dead eyes upon Bethany.
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“The glasses are replaceable, Miss Garcia,” Vincent stated, his voice a low, terrifying rumble. “But if you ever intentionally trip another member of this household again, I will personally ensure you are escorted off this property, Senator’s daughter or not.”
Bethany gasped, her face flushing bright red with fury, but she knew better than to challenge the Consigliere.
