Chapter 1 - The Slap on the Marble FloorThe sharp, brutal sound tore through the marble mansion before the physical pain even registered. It silenced every conversation in the room instantly. One second, I was standing beside the shattered glass coffee table, my palm bleeding from the shards garming my skin. The next, my head snapped violently to the side.
The world went completely still. The servants froze mid-step. The elite guests lowered their eyes, refusing to intervene. No one moved, and no one dared to breathe. Because my husband, Andrew, had just struck me in public—and his face held absolutely no remorse.
Andrew slowly lowered his hand, chest heaving with a mixture of rage and twisted pride. Beside him stood Brenda, his mistress. She wore a flawless, tight crimson dress, her hand wrapped tightly around his arm as if she already owned the estate. Her expression was a masterpiece of manipulation—soft, innocent, and performing the role of a frightened victim.
Across the room, my mother-in-law, Margaret, held an empty velvet jewelry box with cold, aristocratic disdain.
"The emerald necklace belonged to my mother," Margaret said, her voice dripping with venom. "Something that precious should never have been left in the hands of someone as low-born as you."
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"I did not steal your necklace," I responded, my voice remarkably steady despite the burning heat on my cheek.
But Andrew didn't care about the truth. My defiance only added fuel to his explosive ego. He stepped forward and struck me again, harder this time, making sure every high-society guest witnessed my humiliation.
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