Chapter 12 - The Screaming Confession
The heavy double doors of the mansion foyer banged open from within as first responders rushed through the gilded corridors.
Victoria spun around wildly, her platinum hair whipping across her face in wet, matted strands that stuck to her tear-stained cheeks.
"It was an accident!" she screamed toward the arriving footsteps, her voice vibrating with hysterical panic.
"She slipped! Clara has always been clumsy, she tripped over the stone rim and fell into the basin herself!"
A wave of collective disgust swept through the gathering of thirty high-society witnesses.
"We all watched you grab her shoulders, Victoria!" an influential female patron shouted from the front row of the circle.
"You dragged that poor girl to the edge with your own hands and shoved her straight into the water!" a prominent investment banker barked.
"I have the entire assault recorded in 4K from five feet away," another guest called out, tilting his glowing phone screen forward.
Victoria bared her teeth like a trapped predator, the sheer magnitude of her exposure shattering the last remnants of her composure.
"She deserved it!" Victoria suddenly shrieked, dropping all pretense of innocence as her voice echoed across the courtyard.
The entire terrace went completely dead silent, stunned by the sheer, unbridled malice radiating from the woman in crimson.
"She has been poisoning Arthur’s mind against me since the day we married!" Victoria roared, her chest heaving with rabid fury.
"She is an insolent little parasite who thought she could keep her father's wealth away from me and my future!"
Arthur stood motionless, his jaw clenched so hard the muscles in his temples ticked with dangerous, volcanic restraint.
Elena placed a protective hand on Clara's shoulder, feeling the young woman shudder as the poisonous words rained down upon her.
"I built this lifestyle! I earned my place at the head of this empire, and I will not let a pathetic little girl stand in my way!"
Victoria lunged forward half a step, shaking her bloody, champagne-soaked fists toward Clara huddled against Arthur's chest.
"You should have stayed under that water, Clara! You should have drowned before anyone could pull your miserable face back up!"
A collective gasp of sheer horror erupted from the crowd of guests at the horrifying declaration.
Several women recoiled in genuine terror, while the men stepped closer to ensure Victoria could not take another step toward the victim.
"Keep recording every word," Arthur said in a tone of terrifying, absolute calm that cut right through Victoria's screams.
"Let the district attorney hear every syllable of her premeditated intent to commit murder on my property."
Four armed police officers and three emergency paramedics burst onto the terrace through the glass patio doors.
Their heavy tactical boots struck the wet marble with sharp, authoritative thuds that commanded immediate silence.
The lead officer, a tall sergeant with silver hair and a weathered, commanding face, instantly took in the scene.
He saw the shattered banquet table, the spilled wine, the soaked housemaid, the traumatized daughter wrapped in her father's tuxedo, and the wild-eyed woman in crimson.
"Everyone step back right now!" the sergeant commanded, his hand resting firmly on the holster at his hip.
The guests immediately parted, creating a wide, clean corridor between the arriving officers and the center of the terrace.
Victoria looked at the uniforms, her pale eyes darting frantically toward the shadows of the garden, contemplating an impossible escape.
"Officers, thank God you're here!" she pleaded, her voice artificially shifting into a fragile, whimpering sob.
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"My husband and these people attacked me! They threw me into the table! They tried to kill me!"
The sergeant didn't even blink at her theatrical performance, his gaze moving straight to Arthur Bennett.
