CHAPTER 1 — THE RING
The ballroom glittered beneath enormous crystal chandeliers.
White tablecloths stretched across rows of elegant tables.
Champagne flowed.
Soft music filled the air.
The city's wealthiest families gathered beneath the golden lights.
At the center sat Richard Bennett.
A powerful businessman.
A respected widower.
A man who had spent ten years grieving the loss of his wife.
Or so everyone believed.
Meanwhile, a waitress moved quietly through the room.
Collecting glasses.
Serving guests.
Almost invisible.
Almost.
As she approached Richard's table, she reached for an empty wine glass.
Then everything stopped.
Richard's eyes locked onto her hand.
The ring.
His breathing instantly faltered.
His face drained of color.
No.
It couldn't be.
The ring was impossible.
Because he had personally placed that ring onto his wife's finger before her coffin was closed.
He had watched it disappear forever.
Or so he thought.
Without thinking, he stood up.
His chair crashed backward.
The entire table turned.
Then Richard grabbed the waitress's wrist.
Hard.
The room fell silent.
Every conversation stopped.
Every eye turned toward them.
The waitress looked directly into his eyes.
Calm.
Unshaken.
And whispered:
May you like
"This ring belongs to me."
A chill swept through the ballroom.
