THE SILENT INHERITANCE

Chapter 2

The room fell silent, all eyes turning as she stormed toward him, her silk dress rustling with each furious step, her pale face contorted with rage.

“Where’s my gold necklace? The one I left on my bed?” she demanded.

Noah froze, bewilderment clouding his features. His tray of drinks wobbled as he turned to face her, his voice calm but tinged with confusion. “I didn’t take any necklace, Madam Celeste. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She closed the gap between them, her lips twisting into a sneer. “Don’t act innocent, you little thief. You were the only one in my room yesterday. I *know* I left it there!”

Noah’s pulse raced, but he met her gaze, his voice steady and truthful. “I swear, I didn’t take it. When I brought the linens to your room, there was no necklace. I didn’t see anything.”

Whispers spread through the crowd, sharp and judgmental. 

“He’s lying,” a woman murmured, her diamond earrings catching the light as she leaned toward her companion. “Look at him, shifty as anything. Probably stole it to pawn it.”

“That’s the orphan, isn’t it?” a man muttered. “His mother was trouble. Bet he’s no different.”

Before Noah could defend himself, a tall woman in a striking emerald dress stepped forward—Lady Gaga, Madam Celeste’s closest confidante, her amber eyes gleaming with spite. “Celeste, he’s clearly lying,” she declared loudly, her voice thick with contempt. “Just look at that guilty face.”

Noah’s jaw tightened, his voice rising in defiance. “I’m not lying! I didn’t take any necklace. I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Madam Celeste smirked, her heels clicking menacingly as she advanced. “Oh, really? Then prove it, you little rat.”

Noah’s brow furrowed. “Prove it? How do I prove I didn’t take something I never saw? I’m telling you, I didn’t do it!”

Celeste crossed her arms, her smirk widening. “Is that so? Empty your pockets, Noah. Right now.”

He blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Her laugh was sharp and mocking, ringing through the room. “Are you deaf? I said, empty your pockets—here and now!”

Noah’s face flushed under the crowd’s scrutiny. “Fine,” he said, his voice low but resolute. He set his tray down, the glasses clinking softly. “I’m telling you, I don’t have it.”

He reached into his trouser pockets, patting the left—empty. Then the right, where his fingers grazed something cold and metallic. His heart sank as a delicate gold necklace slipped out, glinting as it fell to the polished floor with a faint clink.

The crowd gasped in unison. Noah’s eyes widened, his breath hitching. “No, that’s not…” he stammered.

Lady Gaga pounced, her green dress swishing as she snatched the necklace from the floor, holding it aloft like a prize. “Celeste!” she crowed, her voice triumphant. “Look at this!”

Madam Celeste’s eyes locked on the necklace, her smirk turning vicious. Noah shook his head, desperation creeping into his voice. “I didn’t take it! I swear, someone planted it! I’m being framed!”

Before he could say more, Celeste closed the distance in two swift steps. Her hand lashed out, delivering three stinging slaps across Noah’s face—*crack, crack, crack*. His head snapped sideways, the sound echoing in the silent ballroom. The crowd watched, some smirking, others whispering, feeding on the spectacle.

Celeste leaned in, her voice a venomous hiss. “You filthy thief. You thought you could steal from me? You’re nothing but a disgrace, just like your pathetic mother.”

She straightened, raising her voice for all to hear. “Look at you, you wretched little pest. You reek of your filthy, poor mother—a whore who thought she could rewrite her fate by seducing my husband and bearing his child. Hahaha!”

Her cruel laughter rang out as she lifted her wine glass. “A toast to my co-wife’s death—that whore who brought about her own end, and her brat’s!”

The ballroom exploded in mocking laughter, the sound crashing over Noah like a tidal wave. His fists clenched, his face burning from the slaps and her words. His mother’s gentle smile, her warm amber eyes, flashed in his mind, twisted by Celeste’s lies. Unable to bear it, he shoved past a stunned servant and fled to the porch, the laughter trailing him.

The cool night air hit his face as he sank onto the steps, tears spilling as sobs wracked his body. Footsteps approached, soft but deliberate. A woman in a simple yet elegant dress stood beside him, her blue eyes kind in the moonlight.

“Ma’am, what do you want?” Noah asked, his voice thick with grief, barely glancing up.

She smiled, her gaze warm and unfamiliar. “At last, I’ve found you, Young Master Romeo.”

Noah’s face twisted in confusion as he wiped his tears. “Young master?” he echoed, his voice breaking as he stared at her, her smile steady and enigmatic.

---

Noah sat on the chilly porch steps, his face buried in his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks. Madam Celeste’s cruel words—“You reek of your filthy, poor mother, a whore”—cut deeper than the slaps, echoing in his mind. His amber eyes, red from crying, flicked up as the woman beside him spoke, her voice calm but sharp, as if she held a secret.

“What did you just say?” Noah asked, his voice rough as he wiped his face and turned to her. She was in her mid-30s, with striking blue eyes and a plain dress that stood out against the opulence of the ballroom crowd.

The woman smirked, a hint of sarcasm in her gaze, and crouched beside him. “I knew this would happen,” she said, her tone teasing yet kind.

Noah shifted away, suspicion creasing his brow, his damp towel still clinging to his waist from earlier. “Lady, you’ve got the wrong person,” he said, letting out a bitter chuckle. “I’m not who you think I am.”

She tilted her head, undeterred. “Oh, I’m not mistaken, Noah Varyn, only son of—”

“Stop it!” Noah’s voice surged, cutting her off, his frustration boiling over. “You’re confusing me with someone else, I’m telling you!” he shouted, his chest heaving, the night air cool against his flushed skin.

The woman’s smile faded, and a heavy silence settled between them, broken only by the creak of the ballroom door. Miss Valerie stepped out, her apron slightly askew, her eyes scanning the porch. “Noah, there you are!” she said, relief in her voice. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”

Noah glanced at her, quickly wiping his tears. He forced a weak smile. “Just needed some air, Miss Val,” he said, his voice unsteady.

The woman stood, brushing off her dress, and turned to Valerie, who gave a quick, nervous bow. “Good evening, ma’am,” Valerie said softly.

“Evening,” the woman replied warmly, easing Valerie’s tension.

Valerie hesitated, then spoke with a sarcastic edge. “The party’s winding down, and Madam Celeste wants everyone in the ballroom for the grand cutting of her *glorious* cake.” She rolled her eyes, then froze, her face paling. “Oh, please, ma’am, don’t tell Madam Celeste I said that!”

The woman laughed softly. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed. I was just leaving.” She turned to Noah, who watched her with a mix of curiosity and confusion. “I’ll go now,” she said, her smile cryptic. She descended the steps, her heels clicking faintly, and headed to the parking garage. A sleek blue Rolls-Royce hummed to life, its headlights slicing through the dark as it pulled onto the road.

“Who was she? Do you know her?” Valerie asked, curiosity lacing her voice as the car vanished.

Noah shook his head, unease settling in. “No idea,” he said, his mind racing. *Young master?* The words lingered, sparking a mix of hope and doubt. “She called me ‘Young Master Noah,’ like I’m some kind of noble. Weird, right?”

Valerie frowned, worry flickering in her eyes. “Yeah, that’s strange. Come on, we’d better get inside before Madam Celeste comes looking.”

Noah nodded, standing to follow her back into the mansion. His heart felt heavy, torn between the woman’s cryptic words and Celeste’s cruelty, both swirling in his mind.