The crystal chandeliers hung high above the grand ballroom of the Sterling Estate, casting bright light over hundreds of wealthy guests dressed in expensive silk and tailored tuxedos. Laughter filled the air as servers walked quietly between small circles of rich business owners, carrying silver trays filled with champagne glasses and luxury hors d'oeuvres. Eleanor stood near the center of the room, her sparkling silver gown catching every beam of light as she smiled for a nearby photographer. She was engaged to David Sterling, the young billionaire who had recently taken over his family business empire after his parents passed away. Eleanor loved the attention, the status, and the endless line of credit that came with her new title in the Sterling family. She held a cold glass of fine wine in her diamond-ringed hand, boasting to her socialite friends about her upcoming tropical wedding plans.
A few feet away, an elderly woman named Martha worked silently, wiping down a marble side table with a clean white cloth. Martha was sixty-eight years old, her hair tied up neatly under her black maid cap, her face worn with deep lines from decades of hard physical labor. She had served the Sterling household for nearly thirty years, long before Eleanor ever set foot in the grand house. Martha was quiet, soft-spoken, and moved with deliberate care, though her knees ached constantly from scrubbing heavy stone floors every single morning. As she turned around with her tray, another guest stepped back suddenly without looking. The guest bumped right into Martha, causing her hand to slip and sending three full champagne glasses crashing directly onto the sparkling silver train of Eleanor gown.
Eleanor: Look at what you did, you stupid old fool!
The loud pop of breaking glass rang out across the quiet ballroom, drawing the eyes of dozens of nearby guests. Eleanor shrieked loudly, grabbing her damp dress and looking down at the wet spots with pure fury in her eyes. Martha immediately dropped to her knees on the cold marble floor, her trembling hands trying to pick up the shattered glass before anyone could step on it.
Martha: I am so sorry, Miss Eleanor! Please let me wipe it right away!
Eleanor: A servant ruined my dress! She will pay for this right now!
Without warning, Eleanor unbuckled the thick leather belt from her dress accent, raising it high above her head with a snarl on her face. The guests around them gasped loudly in horror, but nobody stepped forward to stop the angry heiress. Eleanor brought the belt down sharply across Martha's exposed shoulder, the loud smack echoing off the high plaster walls. Martha pulled her head down, tears pouring over her bruised cheeks as she sobbed on the wet floor, clutching her arms tightly around herself in fear. Eleanor raised the leather strap a second time, her eyes wide with unhinged rage as she prepared to strike the helpless old woman again.