Chapter 8 - The Price of Pride
Alex looked down at the paper, then up into Maya’s eyes. His throat was dry, his tongue heavy as he tried to find his voice.
"Maya..." Alex rasped, his aristocratic composure entirely shattered. "I... I didn't know... I had no idea who you were..."
"It doesn't matter who I am, Mr. Vance," Maya said. Her voice was not loud, but in the quieted room, every word carried with razor-sharp clarity. "You believed you could buy a human being's humiliation for fifty thousand dollars."
She slowly tore the check in half.
RIP.
The sound was small, but it echoed clearly off the head table.
She tore it again. And again. Until the fifty-thousand-dollar corporate bank draft was reduced to a dozen tiny, white paper squares resting in her palm.
Maya raised her hand and let the paper pieces fall from her fingers. They drifted down through the air, landing softly on Alex’s polished leather shoes and the silver train of Victoria’s gown.
"Keep your money, Mr. Vance," Maya said softly, her dark eyes flashing with lethal, unshakeable pride. "My dignity was never for sale."
Victoria let out a small, strangled gasp, hiding her face behind her hands as several photographers near the front row captured the moment with rapid, blinding flashbulbs.
Maya turned on her heel and walked away.
May you like
She did not head toward the main entrance where the guests stood. She walked toward the quiet brass service doors leading to the kitchen prep area, her posture straight, her chin high, her crimson dress swaying softly with every step.
As she pushed through the brass doors, the entire ballroom erupted into another wave of thunderous applause that followed her down the quiet hallway.
