THE SILENT INHERITANCE

Chapter 3

The ballroom was quieting down, the air heavy with the scent of expensive perfume and the faint clink of champagne flutes. Guests lingered in a loose circle, offering their farewells while presenting gifts to Madam Celeste, who stood at the center, flanked by her close confidante, Lady Gaga.

Madam Celeste’s forced smile sparkled as she accepted each offering, her sharp blue eyes appraising them like a hawk eyeing its next meal. A man in a tailored suit presented a small velvet case, bowing slightly.

“How thoughtful, dear,” Madam Celeste purred, her voice dripping with artificial warmth. Another guest handed her a neatly wrapped package, and her “Oh, how charming!” echoed, though her eyes remained cold and distant.

As the crowd dwindled, Madam Celeste and Lady Gaga slipped to the side, their whispers sharp and conspiratorial.

“Did you see that tacky scarf Mrs. Carlton gave me?” Madam Celeste sneered, holding up a vibrant shawl with disdain. “As if this makes up for her husband’s crumbling empire.”

Lady Gaga chuckled, her emerald gown shimmering under the chandelier’s glow. “And that gaudy vase from the Petersons? Desperate.”

Their laughter was low and cutting as they sorted through the gifts, tossing aside the “inferior” ones while admiring a glittering diamond pin and a sleek leather handbag.

“Now *this* is more my style,” Madam Celeste said, smirking as she held up the pin.

The last guests departed, leaving the ballroom silent except for the clatter of servants tidying up. Madam Celeste sank into a cushioned chair, Lady Gaga beside her, both sipping wine as they rifled through the remaining presents.

Madam Celeste’s expression soured at a pair of silver earrings. “Who thought *this* was acceptable?” she scoffed, flinging them aside. Lady Gaga unwrapped a silk scarf, smirking. “At least this one’s passable,” she said, draping it over her arm.

Suddenly, Madam Celeste’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “Valerie!” she bellowed. Miss Valerie, her apron dusted with flour, hurried in from the kitchen, her face pale. She approached cautiously, her steps quick but hesitant, and dipped into a low bow, her eyes flickering with unease.

“Yes, Madam Celeste?” she asked, her voice quivering.

“Where’s Noah?” Madam Celeste demanded, her gaze narrowing.

“I’m here,” Noah replied, emerging from the kitchen, his waiter’s uniform creased from the evening’s chaos. His tone was calm, but his pulse quickened as he approached, stopping a few feet from the two women.

Madam Celeste dismissed Valerie with a curt wave. “Back to your tasks,” she said icily. Valerie bowed again and retreated toward the kitchen, but she paused at the threshold, her worried gaze lingering on Noah.

Madam Celeste turned her attention to Noah, her lips twisting into a scornful smirk. “You’re utterly useless, aren’t you?” she said, her voice thick with contempt. Lady Gaga let out a sharp giggle, her laughter cruel and mocking. Madam Celeste rose, snatching a glass of red wine from the table. With a deliberate flick, she spilled it onto the polished floor, the crimson liquid pooling at her feet.

“Clean it,” she commanded. “And take off that absurd uniform. You don’t deserve it.”

Noah hesitated, his jaw tight, his amber eyes smoldering with restrained fury. Slowly, he removed his jacket, letting it drop, and knelt to scrub the spill with a cloth from his pocket. As he worked, Madam Celeste stepped forward, pressing her heeled shoe into his back, the pressure sharp and degrading.

“Know your place, you little wretch,” she hissed. “You’re nothing but a burden, a worthless nobody who doesn’t belong here.”

Noah’s hands trembled as he cleaned, her words cutting deep. Lady Gaga leaned in, her voice laced with mock concern. “Careful, Celeste, don’t crush him! What if he breaks?” she gasped, feigning shock.

Madam Celeste cackled, her laugh harsh and grating. “Oh, right, he’s spineless!” 

Their cruel laughter echoed through the nearly empty ballroom. Noah’s eyes flicked toward the kitchen doorway, where Valerie stood, her face etched with concern. She took a step forward, but Noah gave a subtle shake of his head, a faint smile masking his pain. He didn’t want her risking trouble for his sake.

Slowly, he rose, his back aching from the heel’s pressure, and faced the two women. Madam Celeste sipped her wine, her gaze locked on him. “What’s that look, boy?” she taunted, standing up. “Planning to hit me? Go ahead, try.”

Before he could respond, her hand lashed out, delivering a sharp slap across his cheek. She shoved him, her voice cold as ice. “Get out of my sight, you pathetic creature.”

Noah stumbled, his fist clenching, teeth gritted as he fought the urge to retaliate. The sting on his cheek burned, but the ache in his chest was worse. He turned, walking toward the exit, his steps slow but steady. Valerie hurried after him, calling softly, “Noah! Noah!”

He paused at the base of the stairs, his shoulders slumped. Miss Valerie caught up, her voice gentle. “Don’t let what just happened get to you, okay? She’s cruel, but you’re stronger than her.”

Noah turned, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not worried about that, Val, trust me,” he said, his voice steady but empty. His gaze drifted, a shadow of sadness creeping in. “I’m worried about something else.”

He paused, then added, “Good night, Miss Valerie.”

She stood there, her eyes brimming with concern, watching as he climbed the stairs to his room, the cryptic words of a mysterious woman—“Young master Noah”—echoing in his mind like an unsolved riddle.