Chapter 6 - The Ghost in the Ballroom
The grand church hall was a masterpiece of luxury. Crystal chandeliers hung above a sea of elite guests in tuxedos and evening gowns. Waiters carried trays of expensive champagne.
At the front of the room, standing at a podium adorned with white lilies, was Marcus. He wore a crisp, tailored tuxedo, wiping a perfectly timed, fake tear from his eye.
"My sister was my world," Marcus lied smoothly into the microphone, his voice echoing with false grief. "Losing her to the icy waters has broken my heart. But her legacy will live on through me."
BANG.
The heavy wooden doors slamming against the stone walls echoed like a gunshot.
The live string quartet abruptly stopped playing. Hundreds of wealthy guests turned their heads toward the entrance, annoyed by the sudden disruption.
Arthur stood in the doorway, a towering, intimidating silhouette. Beside him stood Anna. Her long, messy brown hair fell over the lapels of Arthur’s coat, her bare, bruised feet visible on the polished marble floor.
Marcus looked up from the podium.
All the blood instantly, violently drained from his face. The glass of water on his podium slipped from his hand and shattered onto the floor. He looked like he had just seen a ghost.
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"Hello, Marcus," Anna said. Her voice was quiet, but in the dead silent hall, it carried like a death sentence.
👉 How will the cornered traitor try to silence his sister in front of high society?
