Chapter 6 No.6

Eleanor pushed through the crowd of stunned guests, her face a mask of fury and terror. She didn't look at Jennie, who was cradling her crushed hand and sobbing on the floor. She looked straight at Kalea's clenched fist.

She recognized the glint of green.

Eleanor stopped three feet away. Her chest was heaving. "Kalea," she warned, her voice low and dangerous. "Give those to me. Now."

Kalea held the earrings up. "You said they were lost," she said. Her voice wasn't loud, but in the silence of the room, it carried. "You told me they were stolen."

"We will discuss this in private," Eleanor hissed, reaching out to grab Kalea's arm.

Kalea stepped back. "In private? Like how you gave my inheritance to your son-in-law's whore in private?"

A collective gasp rippled through the room. The word whore hung in the air like toxic smoke.

"She's crazy!" Jennie wailed from the floor, tears streaming down her face. "She attacked me! She's stealing my jewelry!"

Franco appeared, pushing past Eleanor. He looked at Jennie on the floor, then at Kalea. His face darkened with rage. "What the hell are you doing? Give her back her things!"

"Her things?" Kalea laughed. It was a jagged, broken sound. "These are my grandmother's. Look at the engraving, Franco. Or can you not read?"

"You are hysterical," Franco spat. "You're off your meds. Give them here before I call security."

Haleigh appeared at Eleanor's side. She looked angelic in her white dress, her face the picture of concern. "Please, everyone," Haleigh said, her voice soft and trembling. "My sister isn't well. She's been... confused lately. The stress of the wedding. Please, just ignore this."

"Confused?" Kalea looked at Haleigh. The pieces clicked into place. Eleanor wouldn't give the earrings to Jennie directly. Eleanor gave them to Haleigh. The golden child. And Haleigh, who wouldn't be caught dead wearing "old" jewelry, gave them to Jennie. To buy silence? Or just to humiliate Kalea further?

"I am not confused," Kalea said.

She turned and walked toward the small stage where the band had been playing. The crowd parted for her, terrified of the look in her eyes.

"Stop her!" Eleanor shrieked at the security guards.

But the guards were blocked by a wall of curious billionaires holding champagne flutes. No one moved.

Kalea stepped up onto the stage. She walked to the microphone stand. The feedback whined for a second, piercing the air.

She held the earrings up to the light.

"These are the Alexander Emeralds," she said, her voice booming through the speakers. "My grandmother left them to me. Tonight, they fell out of the purse of Ms. Jennie Spence, my fiancé's secretary."

She looked down at Franco. He looked like he wanted to murder her. His face was purple.

"I wonder," Kalea continued, "how a secretary affords a family heirloom? Or perhaps... she didn't buy them."

Eleanor was rushing the stage now. She scrambled up the steps, her hand raised as if to strike Kalea.

Kalea spun around. She didn't flinch. She leaned into the microphone, but turned her head so only Eleanor could hear the whisper.

"Touch me," Kalea whispered, "and I tell everyone about Haleigh's little trip to the clinic last summer. And who paid for it."

Eleanor froze. Her hand stopped in mid-air. Her eyes went wide, the pupils dilated with pure fear.

Kalea smiled. It was a cold, dead smile. "Back off, Mother."

Eleanor slowly lowered her hand. She was trembling. She looked at Kalea as if she were a stranger. A monster.