Chapter 3 - THE DESTRUCTION OF JOY
Nathaniel’s expression hardened into granite. “Victoria, that is enough. Step back.”
“No, Nathaniel! It is not enough!” Victoria’s voice rose, theatrical and dripping with venom. She wanted an audience. She wanted to humiliate Elena so deeply that the maid would resign and leave Connecticut before sunrise. “You are embarrassing me! You are embarrassing us!”
With a swift, cruel sweep of her arm, Victoria struck the first birthday gift from the table.
CRASH!
The box—a hand-carved wooden dollhouse built by the head gardener—shattered against the marble floor, its miniature roof snapping in two.
Lily gasped, her small hand flying to her mouth.
“Victoria!” Nathaniel roared, his voice thundering through the hall.
But Victoria was consumed by a blind, bitter rage. “She doesn’t belong here! Her mother is a servant! She needs to learn her place!”
With another violent strike, Victoria shoved the second gift—a soft set of painted storybooks from Mrs. Donnelly—off the table. It slid across the floor, the delicate paper pages tearing under the sharp heel of Victoria’s shoe as she deliberately stepped on them.
The three hundred wealthy guests in the ballroom went dead silent. No one moved. No one spoke. The cruel spectacle was horrifying, yet no one dared intervene against the Hale heiress.
Elena rushed forward, pulling Lily tightly into her arms, pressing the little girl’s face against her chest so she wouldn’t see the destruction. Lily began to sob quietly, her shoulders shaking. That sound—the silent, heartbroken weeping of a child who didn't understand why she was being punished—echoed off the high ceilings.
“And what is this grand prize?” Victoria sneered, her eyes locking onto the third gift—the one wrapped in blue velvet ribbon that Nathaniel had brought. “Some cheap trinket bought with your pity?”
Victoria grabbed the final gift and slammed it down onto the hard marble floor.
SMASH!
The lid of the box popped open. Something metallic and delicate rolled out across the floor, ringing softly against the stone until it came to a rest right at Nathaniel’s feet.
Victoria looked down, expecting a cheap plastic toy. But as her eyes landed on the object, the color drained completely from her face.
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It was a antique silver music box shaped like a carousel, encrusted with pink sapphires.
It was not just any music box. It was a famous heirloom. It was the personal treasure of Nathaniel’s late wife, Caroline—the box that had belonged to his late daughter, June.
