Chapter 4 - The Serpent’s Venom
"I was just getting a glass of water," Joan said, forcing her voice to remain steady, drawing on the years of customer-service composure she had perfected at the restaurant.
Arthur Vance stared at her for a long, agonizing moment before stepping aside. "The kitchen is downstairs to the left. Don't wander the halls after midnight. Security protocols are strict."
Joan hurried away, but the interaction left a bitter taste in her mouth. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was walking through a minefield.
The next morning, the drama intensified. A massive corporate gala was scheduled at the estate to celebrate the upcoming patent launch. Richard had insisted Joan attend, offering her a stunning emerald gown that made her look like she belonged in high society rather than behind a serving tray.
"You're our guest of honor, Joan," Richard told her gently before the guests arrived. "I want the board to see the woman who saved my family."
The gala was a blur of diamonds, champagne, and false smiles. Joan kept close to Betty, who refused to leave her side. But during the height of the party, as Richard was giving a speech on the grand staircase, Thomas Seagull approached Joan, a champagne flute in hand.
"You look beautiful, Joan," Thomas whispered, his eyes scanning her up and down with a predatory look. "A far cry from the red apron. But let's be honest—how long do you think this little fairy tale will last? My brother is a man driven by guilt over his late wife. Once that guilt fades, you’ll just be the help again."
"I don't care about the money or the status, Mr. Seagull," Joan said coldly.
"No? Then why did your bank account receive a wire transfer of fifty thousand dollars from an offshore account in the Cayman Islands yesterday morning?" Thomas smiled cruelly, pulling up a digital document on his phone.
Joan stared at the screen, horror washing over her. The account number was hers. The money was real. But she had never seen it before.
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"I... I didn't accept this," Joan stammered.
"The police won't care if you accepted it willingly or as payment for leaking our location," Thomas whispered. "Enjoy the party, Joan. It’s your last one."
