THE MULTIMILLIONAIRE HEIR’S MOTHER WAS HUMILIATED AT HIS OWN ENGAGEMENT PARTY BY HIS BRIDE-TO-BE

The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly upon the pristine lawns of the Carter estate, illuminating the delicate white gazebo draped in imported silk and cascading orchids. Elegance defined the high-society gathering, a celebration of the impending marriage between Ethan Carter and Victoria Sterling. Victoria stood near the manicured flower beds, her white long-sleeved dress catching the golden light. In her left hand, she balanced a crystal flute of vintage champagne, while her right hand firmly gripped the brass nozzle of a heavy garden hose. Kneeling in the wet grass just feet away was an elderly woman with long grey hair, soaked to the skin, wearing a worn beige jacket and clutching a small cloth bag defensively to her chest.

Victoria’s posture remained rigid, her expression cold as she squeezed the nozzle, sending another harsh arc of cold water directly into the old woman’s face.

“Beggars don’t belong at parties like this,” Victoria said softly, her voice dripping with calculated disdain as she maintained eye contact with the trespasser.

The elderly woman flinched, her eyes squeezed shut against the stinging spray. She shivered violently, her lips trembling, but she refused to drop the cloth bag. Around the gazebo, affluent guests whispered among themselves, sipping their champagne with amused, detached smirks, treating the cruelty as harmless afternoon entertainment.

The old woman slowly opened her tired eyes, looking up at Victoria with a mixture of profound despair and unyielding resolve.

“I’m looking for Ethan Carter,” she rasped, her voice cracking with exhaustion.

Victoria froze. Her hand tightened on the hose, the chilling smile vanishing from her lips as she snapped her head toward the grand French doors behind her. A sharp, piercing gasp escaped Victoria’s lips as the heavy oak door creaked open. Ethan Carter stepped out onto the veranda, impeccably dressed in a dark tailored suit and a crisp white shirt. He took one look at the soaked woman on the grass, and his face drained entirely of color. His jaw dropped, and the glass of champagne he held slipped from his fingers, shattering loudly against the stone paving.

Ethan pushed past the paralyzed guests, his eyes wide with horror.