A Silver Tray Shatters
A crystal flute struck the polished marble floor and shattered into dozens of bright fragments.
Champagne pooled around the hem of an emerald gown as the room fell quiet.
The server in the burgundy uniform held her balance, lowering her empty hands while guests turned from their conversations.
Instead of stepping back, the woman in the green dress kicked the silver platter across the floor.
She lifted her right foot, planting the spiked tip of a glittered stiletto inches from the server’s nose.
Her finger thrust forward as she leaned down, commanding the server to remember her place.
Refusing To Flinch
The server did not lower her chin.
She raised one gloved hand, wrapped her fingers around the woman’s stiletto heel, and pushed back.
The woman’s balance snapped. Her smirk disappeared as she staggered sideways onto the slick tiles.
A gasp swept through the circle of tuxedos and evening gowns.
The woman clutched at the air, regaining her footing while her face turned red.
She pointed across the room and shouted for Adrian, demanding the server be dismissed on the spot.
A tall man in a navy velvet tuxedo cut through the crowd, stepping over the scattered glass.
He stopped between the two women and looked at the wet floor, demanding an explanation.
Uncovering The Truth
The woman in green stepped to his side, claiming she had been assaulted.
Adrian turned toward the server, his brow furrowing as he looked down at her.
The server stood tall, her posture rigid under his gaze.
She reached down to the cuff of her burgundy uniform sleeve.
With a slow, deliberate tug, she pulled the fabric up past her wrist.
Beneath the sleeve rested a polished gold cuff carrying a raised police emblem.
Across her forearm ran a thick, jagged scar against her skin.
She told him to review the venue’s security footage before believing another word.
Adrian’s eyes drifted from her gaze down to the brass shield and the scar on her wrist.
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