The Almighty Dominance (by Sunshine) novel Chapter 832

Patricia's slap rang across the roof like a dropped plate.

Nobody moved. A waiter froze with a tray of glasses in his hands. At the next table, the old lady in diamonds slowly put down her fork.

The manager did not touch his cheek. A red handprint came up on it, one finger at a time.

"Did that hurt?" Alex asked him, worried. He held out his napkin. "You can have this. It's clean. Mostly."

"Thank you, sir. It's quite all right."

The manager turned to Patricia. He was still perfectly polite. That was the scary part.

"You asked who gave me the nerve, madam. Ms. Vale did. Her company, Halcyon, owns this hotel from tonight. And you have just slapped the manager of a Halcyon hotel, on a Halcyon roof, in front of Halcyon's guest." He lifted one hand. "Security."

Two men in dark suits came from beside the lift. They were very big and very quiet.

"Don't you dare touch me!" Patricia backed against her chair. "I'm a Tiffany! I'm Mr. Ellis's guest! Mark! Tell them!"

Mark Ellis looked out at the sea. He did not say one word for her.

The men took her by both arms. Patricia kicked. One green shoe flew off and slid under the next table.

"Grandmother! Grandmother, do something!"

"The young lady is not a member, and she has no card of her own," the manager said. "She may never come into a Halcyon hotel again. Not here, and not at the Grand. Take her out of the building. And slap her five times for the one she gave me."

They walked her to the lift. Her feet barely touched the floor. The doors closed on her scream, and the whole roof heard it go all the way down.

"How dare you treat a Tiffany like this?" said the Baroness, Serena's grandmother.

"What? Do you want to be thrown out too?" the manager said. "If you need someone to blame, blame yourself. You never taught your granddaughter how to act like a civilized human being."

The Baroness sat very still. Her cane lay across her knees. For the first time Serena could remember, her grandmother's hands were shaking.

"Nobody say a word," the Baroness said, very low. "This family has been laughed at enough for one night."

Serena's father, Gideon, looked at the Baroness. Then he looked at his daughter, standing guard over her husband. He turned his menu the right way up.

"I think I'll have the fish," he said.

"Miss Serena?" The manager turned to her as if nothing had happened. "Do you want me to remove them?"

"No," she said. "They're my family. Let them stay. And send their table a bottle of wine. On the house. Something good."

"As you wish, Miss Serena. Our best red."

Then the waiter came back from the till with a small silver tray. Mark's gold card lay on it. The waiter took it to the manager, not to Mark.

The manager stepped closer to Mark and spoke quietly. But the roof was so silent that everyone heard.

"Your card, sir. It is not yours. It belongs to a Mrs. Adele Crane, a widow in Calder. Last week she asked every good hotel on this coast to call her if anyone used it. So we will be calling her."

Mark kept smiling. But the colour drained out of his face, like a tide going out.

"Adele is a friend. A business friend. She lends it to me for..."

"Of course, sir. We'll tell her that."

Alex clapped slowly, three times. "Another lady's card, to pay for the Tiffany family's dinner?" he said, full of admiration. "That's very kind of her. You have very generous friends."

Mark's face went red. But before he could answer, Alex and Serena had already walked away to the next table.

A waiter brought the wine in a silver bucket full of ice, even though red wine does not need ice. For a long moment, nobody at the Tiffany table touched it.

"Living off Halcyon," Serena's stepmother, Marissa, hissed into her glass. "That's all she is now. And him? A leech clinging to a parasite. A freeloader married to a freeloader."

"A beggar's wife," said Preston. "Everybody knows it."

Then he looked at his glass. Then at his mother. Then he drank it all in one go.

"Preston!"

"What? It's free," said Preston. "And I haven't got a dollar."

Mark pushed his own glass an inch away with one finger, as if it smelled bad.

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