Chapter 1: The Chandelier Hall
The crystal chandeliers suspended above the dance floor cast a cold, fractured light across the marble tiles. It was supposed to be a night of celebration, a lavish wedding reception for one of the city’s most prominent families. Instead, the air in the grand hall felt suffocatingly heavy.
Vivian stood near the edge of the room, her hand resting instinctively on her swollen belly. At eight months pregnant, the light-blue satin evening gown she wore felt more like a heavy drape than a dress. She was tired, her feet aching in her sensible heels, but her partner, Julian, had insisted they stay. He stood a few feet away in his crisp black tuxedo, effortlessly mingling, his laughter blending with the clinking of champagne glasses. He hadn't checked on her in over an hour.
Suddenly, the soft jazz playing in the background ground to a halt. A frantic murmur rippled through the crowd.
At the center of the room, the bride, Sarah, was in a panic, her pristine white wedding gown rustling as she frantically searched the table where the bridal party’s gifts had been kept.
"It’s gone," Sarah gasped, her voice trembling. "My grandmother’s emerald ring. I left it right here in its box before the toast."
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The hall fell deadly silent. Eyes darted nervously. Vivian shifted her weight, feeling a sudden chill. The groom’s mother, Eleanor—a formidable woman in a sparkly champagne sequin dress—stepped forward. Her gaze swept the room with predatory precision, bypassing the wealthy socialites and wealthy guests, before locking dead onto Vivian. Vivian, the outsider. Vivian, who didn't come from money.
Eleanor began marching across the marble floor, her heels clicking aggressively. Vivian’s heart skipped a beat as the older woman closed the distance, her face twisted in a vicious sneer.
