The Price of Pride 1

The penthouse was so quiet you could hear the city traffic twenty stories below.

Arthur Vance, a man whose net worth exceeded three billion dollars, knelt on the Italian marble floor, weeping over a piece of tarnished aluminum.

Sarah’s hands trembled as she looked down at the billionaire. She instinctively pulled the ripped collar of her maid’s uniform together, her neck stinging where the cheap cord had cut into her skin.

"Sergeant Miller... was my father," Sarah whispered, her voice raw. "He died of complications from Agent Orange when I was twelve. That dog tag is all I have left."

Arthur closed his eyes, a ragged sob tearing from his chest. "He didn't just take a bullet for me, child. He threw his entire body over mine when the mortar hit our trench in Da Nang. I held him while we waited for the medevac. I promised him I would find his wife. I promised I would take care of his little girl."

Arthur opened his eyes, looking at Sarah’s worn, calloused hands, her cheap orthotic shoes, and the red welt forming on her neck.

"I hired private investigators when I got back," Arthur said, his voice breaking. "But your mother remarried. The name changed. I lost the trail. I thought... I thought I had failed him."

"Oh, for heaven’s sake, give me a break!"

Harper’s screech shattered the emotional weight of the room. She stood with her arms crossed, her designer heels tapping impatiently.

"This is very touching, Arthur, truly. A lovely little sob story," Harper sneered, rolling her eyes. "But it doesn't change the fact that this woman is a thief! She stole my hundred-thousand-dollar tennis bracelet! I want her arrested right now. Security, grab her!"

The two hotel security guards hesitated, looking nervously at Arthur.

Arthur slowly stood up. He didn't pick up his wooden cane. The weeping, fragile old man from a moment ago vanished. In his place stood the ruthless, hardened patriarch who had built a global empire from nothing.

He turned his gaze to his daughter-in-law. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

"You want her searched?" Arthur said, his voice dropping to a deadly, quiet register that made the security guards step back. "Fine. But we search you first."

Harper gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "Excuse me? I am your daughter-in-law!"

Arthur didn't argue. He lunged forward, moving with a terrifying speed for a 72-year-old man, and snatched Harper’s $15,000 Hermès handbag right off the velvet sofa.

"Arthur! You can't do that!" Harper shrieked.

Arthur turned the bag completely upside down.

Lipsticks, platinum credit cards, compact mirrors, and designer sunglasses clattered onto the marble floor.

And right in the middle of the pile, gleaming under the crystal chandelier, was a heavy, diamond tennis bracelet.

The security guards gasped. Sarah stared in shock.

Harper’s face drained of all color. She began to back away, her hands shaking. "I... I must have accidentally slipped it into the hidden pocket... I was in a rush..."

Arthur stepped toward her, his eyes blazing with absolute fury. "You filed an insurance claim for this exact piece of jewelry yesterday morning, Harper. I saw the email copied to our family broker. You hid it, and you were going to frame an innocent woman to collect a fraudulent payout."

"No!" Harper cried, panic setting in. "Arthur, please!"

Arthur bent down and picked up the bracelet. He rubbed the stones between his thumb and forefinger. Then, he frowned. He pressed his thumbnail hard against one of the large diamonds.

"This is glass," Arthur said flatly.

Harper froze. "What?"

"It's cubic zirconia," Arthur said, throwing the heavy piece of jewelry onto the floor where it clattered cheaply. "This isn't your bracelet. Someone swapped it for a fake."

Before Harper could process the shock, the private elevator chimed again.

Julian Vance, Arthur's son and Harper’s husband, stepped into the penthouse. He was dressed in a sharp Italian suit, but his tie was loosened and he looked sweating and frantic.

"Dad," Julian said, out of breath. "What's going on? Why is security here?"

Arthur looked from the fake bracelet to his son. "Julian. Where is your wife's real diamond bracelet?"

Julian’s eyes darted to the fake jewelry on the floor, then to Harper, and finally, they landed on Sarah. A dark, desperate shadow crossed Julian's face.

Julian pointed a shaking finger directly at Sarah.

"She has it, Dad," Julian lied, his voice loud and panicked. "The maid. She's been blackmailing me."

Julian reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, tossing it onto the coffee table.