Chapter 5 - The First Course
The entire dining room went completely silent as the crystal shards scattered across the expensive hardwood floor.
I gasped in feigned embarrassment, using my good hand to cover my mouth in mock horror.
Marcus stared at the spilled liquid with a mixture of absolute fury and thinly veiled panic.
His mother, Eleanor, kept her painfully tight grip on my wrist, her fingernails digging deeply into my skin.
Mr. Sterling, the CEO, quickly stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Eleanor's shoulder.
He warmly assured me that a broken glass was perfectly fine and accidents happen to the best of us.
Eleanor immediately released my wrist and forced a charming, entirely fake smile for the powerful executive.
Marcus quickly regained his composure and ordered Chloe to clean up the terrible mess on the floor.
Chloe glared at me with pure hatred as she dropped to her knees in her expensive red dress to pick up the broken glass.
I directed the guests to take their respective seats at the long, beautifully decorated dining room table.
I had carefully arranged the seating chart so that Mr. Sterling sat directly to the right of Marcus.
I took my seat at the opposite end of the table, placing myself as far away from my abusive husband as possible.
The hired servers from the restaurant, wearing crisp white uniforms, smoothly entered the room carrying the first course.
They placed elegant bowls of rich lobster bisque in front of each highly expectant guest.
Marcus proudly took the credit for the incredible meal, bragging about how he had taught me his favorite family recipes.
The executives nodded in polite admiration, completely oblivious to the dark, violent reality of our marriage.
I quietly pressed the button on my hidden earpiece to check in with David in the surveillance van.
David confirmed that the audio and video feeds were recording perfectly, capturing every single lie Marcus told.
As the guests finished their soup, Marcus stood up and loudly tapped his fork against his new glass of champagne.
He began a long, incredibly arrogant speech about his vital importance to the company's financial growth.
He looked directly at Mr. Sterling and claimed he was ready to take on the role of Chief Financial Officer next quarter.
Mr. Sterling smiled politely, but I noticed a sharp, calculating glint in his observant eyes.
Marcus then pointed his glass toward me and publicly mocked my injured arm under the guise of a loving joke.
He told the table that I was essentially nothing more than the hired help, but he loved me anyway.
The room chuckled awkwardly, and I simply smiled back at him with chilling, absolute calmness.
I stood up slowly and announced that it was finally time for the main course to be served to our honored guests.
The servers walked in carrying massive silver platters covered by heavy, polished domes.
They placed a covered platter directly in front of Marcus and another directly in front of Mr. Sterling.
Marcus licked his lips greedily, expecting to see a perfectly roasted rack of imported lamb.
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I gave the servers a sharp nod, and they simultaneously lifted the silver domes off the platters.
Instead of food, the platters contained towering stacks of forged corporate bank statements and offshore routing numbers.
