Chapter 3 - The Mask Slips
The shift in Ethan was immediate and sickening. The man who, five minutes earlier, had coldly ordered me not to make a scene while his mistress humiliated me in front of the city's elite, suddenly stepped in front of Vanessa.
"Clara, sweetheart," Ethan said, reaching out to gently touch my bare shoulder. I flinched away from his hand as if he were covered in venom. His smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he forced a look of deep, protective concern. "Look at your neck. You’re bleeding. Vanessa, what the hell were you thinking? How dare you touch my wife?"
Vanessa’s jaw dropped. The betrayal in her eyes was almost comical. "Ethan? You... you told me she didn't belong here! You said she was just an anchor holding your career down!"
"I said no such thing!" Ethan snapped, raising his voice so the gathered patrons, including his most important prospective clients, could hear him loud and clear. "Clara is my wife. She has always been the heart of my life. You had no right to lay a hand on her or her family heirloom. You need to apologize right now, or you can leave my firm."
Margaret Holloway let out a dry, disdainful chuckle. "Save the performance for the theater, Ethan. We all heard what you told your wife when that girl snatched the chain. You told her to keep quiet so you wouldn't be embarrassed."
Ethan’s collar suddenly seemed much too tight. Sweat beaded along his hairline. "Mrs. Holloway, please, you misunderstand. I was merely trying to prevent a public dispute—"
"You were protecting your side piece at the expense of your wife," Margaret interrupted ruthlessly. She turned her back on Ethan and walked over to me, her sharp features softening into genuine respect. "My dear Clara... I went to school with your grandmother's younger sister. Eleanor Ashford was a legend. If I had known who you were, you wouldn't have been seated at the back corner table near the kitchen."
"I prefer the quiet, Mrs. Holloway," I replied quietly.
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Arthur Bellamy carefully wrapped the sapphire necklace back into the pristine linen cloth and held it out to me with both hands. "Keep this safe, Mrs. Mercer. Or rather... Ms. Ashford. And if you ever wish to place it in the custody of our vault, Bellamy & Sons would be honored to serve you."
Before I could take it, Vanessa lunged forward, her face twisted with bitter spite. "She's lying! Call the police! Check her ID! Ethan, you idiot, she played you!"
