Chapter 3: The Wrong Side of the Story
The elite guests, who moments ago were laughing, looked at one another with confusion, then panic.
"Arthur, darling," a woman in pearls stammered, "don't be dramatic. It was just a spill. Victoria was just—"
"Victoria was playing a game," Arthur interrupted, his eyes locking onto his wife’s. "She was teaching my daughter that she was invisible. And all of you were the audience."
He turned to his head of security, who was standing by the door. "Make sure every guest is escorted out. And record their names. I want a list of everyone who was here tonight."
The room erupted into whispered arguments, but nobody moved. They still thought their social status shielded them. They still thought Arthur was the man they could manipulate.
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Then, Arthur took out his phone. "I’m uploading the security footage from the nanny cam to the local news feed right now. Unless you want your faces on the morning paper next to the headlines about your negligence, I suggest you walk out the door."
The color drained from their faces. The threat was real. Within seconds, the room began to clear.
