The scream shattered the calm of the dining hall.
It cut through the polished silence like broken glass, sharp and sudden, echoing off marble walls and high ceilings. For a split second, no one moved. Then chairs scraped back, footsteps rushed in from every direction, and the staff poured into the room, hearts thudding with dread.
Nicole Vance stood at the head of the long dining table, her perfectly manicured fingers gripping the edge as though she needed it to stay upright. Her face was flushed an angry red, eyes blazing with accusation and something far more dangerous than rage.
"What is this?" she shrieked. "What exactly did you think you were doing?"
Mia, who had been standing a few steps away, froze.
Her hands were still clasped in front of her, her posture straight, her expression carefully neutral. She had served the meal less than five minutes ago. Everything had gone as it always did. No complaints. No hesitation. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Until now.
"I… I'm sorry, ma'am," Mia said instinctively, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is something wrong with the food?"
Nicole's head snapped toward her.
Before anyone could react, Nicole crossed the distance between them in three sharp steps and raised her hand.
The slap landed with a loud crack.
The sound echoed.
Mia staggered back, her head whipping to the side as pain exploded across her cheek. For a moment, the world tilted. Her ears rang. Her vision blurred. She tasted blood.
A collective gasp rippled through the room.
Margaret's hand flew to her mouth. Harold stiffened where he stood, his jaw tightening. Clara let out a small, strangled sound before clamping her lips shut.
No one spoke.
Nicole's chest rose and fell dramatically as she glared at Mia, her breathing exaggerated, uneven. "Don't you dare play innocent," she hissed. "Don't you dare."
Mia pressed a trembling hand to her burning cheek, her eyes wide with shock. "Ma'am, I don't understand. I followed the instructions exactly. I didn't add anything unusual. I....."
Nicole's laugh was sharp, almost hysterical.
"Oh, of course you did," she said loudly, turning toward the others as if addressing an audience. "Because poisoning someone is always obvious, isn't it?"
Poisoning?
The word sucked the air out of the room.
Nicole suddenly clutched her throat, her free hand flying to her chest. "I can't breathe," she rasped. "My throat is closing up. I'm having an allergic reaction."
Panic flickered through the staff.
Margaret stepped forward instinctively. "Miss Vance, should I call a doctor? An ambulance?"
Nicole waved her off dramatically. "No," she snapped, then turned back to Mia with venomous fury. "This is her doing. She wants me dead. That's what this is. She's trying to kill me."
The accusation hit Mia harder than the slap.
Her lips parted, disbelief flooding her face. "No. No, that's not true. I would never..."
Another slap.
This one was harder.
Mia cried out as she fell to the side, barely catching herself on the edge of the table. Tears spilled freely now, hot and unstoppable. Her chest heaved as sobs broke through her control.
"Shut up," Nicole barked. "You don't get to speak."
She paced the room like a queen delivering judgment, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. "I knew it. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were trouble. Sneaking into this house, playing humble, pretending to be harmless."
Mia shook her head helplessly, tears streaking down her face. "Please," she whispered. "I don't even know you. I just do my job. That's all I do."
"That's enough," Nicole snapped. "You think crying will save you?"
She turned to Margaret, her expression cold and cutting. "She leaves. I want her out of this house. I don't care how. I don't care when. She will not remain under this roof."
Margaret's lips trembled, but she said nothing.
Nicole spun back to the table and, with a violent sweep of her arm, shoved the plate off the polished surface.
The porcelain shattered as it hit the floor. Food scattered everywhere. Sauce splattered like stains across the marble.
Mia flinched.
"There," Nicole said with satisfaction. "Clean it up. Or maybe you'll try to hit me with the mop too."
She adjusted her dress, smoothing invisible wrinkles, and inhaled deeply as if nothing had happened. "Margaret," she added coolly, "get my things ready. I'm going to the spa. Manicure. Pedicure. Then she turned to mia,"I'll need something calming when I get back. Try not to kill me next time."
Then she walked out.
The room stayed frozen for several seconds after she left, the air heavy and suffocating.
Slowly, the staff dispersed.
No one dared comfort Mia openly. Fear lingered too thickly in the air. Nicole's presence had a way of poisoning everything it touched.
When they were finally alone, Margaret approached her quietly.
"I'm so sorry," she said softly.
Mia nodded, unable to speak. She wiped her tears with trembling fingers and knelt to clean the broken plate, her sobs silent now, trapped inside her chest.
Thousands of miles away, Alexander Steele closed the deal.
The virtual meeting room blinked out one by one as the final signatures were secured. Faces disappeared from the screen, voices fading into silence. The numbers were staggering. The acquisition would shift the balance of power in their industry.
Alex leaned back in his chair, exhaustion settling into his bones.
It was done.
He had barely checked his phone all day. Missed calls. Missed messages. Most of them from Nicole.
He stared at her name for a moment before finally calling back.
She answered immediately, her voice light, almost sweet. "Alex. Finally."
"I've been tied up in meetings," he said calmly. "The deal is closed."
"That's wonderful," Nicole said. "I knew you'd handle it."
She didn't mention the house. Didn't mention Mia. Didn't mention the scene she had caused.
Instead, she laughed softly. "I can't wait for you to come back. I have something special planned for you."
Alex hummed noncommittally. "I'll be home soon."
They exchanged brief pleasantries before ending the call.
Alex didn't know why a faint unease lingered in his chest.
Ethan picked him up at the airport later that night, the private terminal quiet and discreet.
"So," Ethan said as they drove off, glancing at him with a grin. "Did you save the empire?"
Alex exhaled. "Barely."
Ethan laughed. "Good. Because your fiancée is waiting back home,at least you have someone to ease you of the stress."
Alex shot him a look.
Ethan raised his hands innocently. "Hey, I'm just saying. Good luck."
Alex stared out the window as the city lights blurred past, unaware of the storm that had already broken in his absence.
And back at the mansion, Mia lay awake in her room, her cheek swollen, her heart aching, wondering how long she could survive in a house where silence hurt almost as much as cruelty.