Victoria did not wait for an explanation or an apology from the quiet old woman. She stepped forward aggressively, her face turning bright red with rage. The quiet chatter of the surrounding crowd faded away instantly, leaving a heavy tension in the air. Guests stepped back, gasping in shock as Victoria raised her voice to a loud scream.
Victoria: Look at what you did to my custom dress! Are you completely blind?!
Mrs. Sterling opened her mouth, trying to speak, but only a faint whisper came out of her throat. She looked around nervously, hoping someone would step in to help her navigate her chair out of the way. But the wealthy guests surrounding them simply stared in frozen surprise, too afraid or too indifferent to interfere with Victoria's sudden explosion of anger.
Clara saw the entire scene from across the room and immediately set her serving tray down on a side table. She felt a sharp knot form in her stomach as she watched Victoria step closer to the defenseless woman in the wheelchair. Clara knew her job was on the line if she caused a scene, but her conscience would not allow her to turn away from such blatant cruelty.
Victoria: Move out of my way right now, you useless old woman! You do not even belong in a place like this!
Victoria raised her right hand high into the air, her fingers curled tight as she prepared to bring her heavy hand down across Mrs. Sterling's face. The cruel intention was clear in her eyes, and the helpless old woman winced, pulling her head back as far as her weakened neck muscles would allow.
Before Victoria's arm could swing down, a sudden flash of black and white crossed the distance. Clara lunged forward with incredible speed, her boots gripping the smooth oak floorboards firmly. Just inches before impact, Clara's right hand shot out mid-air and clamped hard around Victoria's wrist, freezing the strike dead in its tracks.
The force of the sudden stop sent a shockwave through Victoria's arm, causing her to lose her balance for a fraction of a second. The entire ballroom let out a collective gasp as the small housemaid stood tall between the heiress and the elderly woman. Clara held the woman's wrist with a firm grip, her own knuckles turning white under the strain of holding back the aggressive blow.
Victoria stared at Clara in absolute shock, her mouth hanging open as she tried to process what had just happened. No service worker had ever laid a hand on her in her entire life. She tried to yank her arm backward, but Clara held her ground like an unmovable wall, refusing to release her grip even a single inch.
Clara: I DON'T CARE WHO YOU ARE! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO HIT SOMEONE WHO CANNOT DEFEND THEMSELVES!
Clara spoke with a loud, ringing voice that carried across the high ceilings of the ballroom. Her eyes burned with pure moral determination, completely unbothered by the vast difference in their social status or the luxury clothing Victoria wore. The raw authority in Clara's voice startled everyone nearby, making even the most arrogant socialites hold their breath in anticipation.