Chapter 5 - The Unraveling
By eight o'clock the following morning, the Anderson estate was in utter chaos.
Maxwell Anderson woke up with a pounding headache, but before he could even call for his morning coffee, his personal phone began ringing uncontrollably. It was his father, Arthur Anderson, the terrifying patriarch of the family empire, calling from his residence in London.
"You absolute idiot!" Arthur roared through the phone before Maxwell could even say hello. "What did you do?!"
Maxwell sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Father? What are you talking about?"
"Look at the news!" Arthur screamed. "Look at the front page of every major newspaper in the country!"
Maxwell hastily grabbed his tablet and opened the morning news. His blood instantly ran cold.
THE MAID AND THE MILLIONAIRE: NEWPORT'S SHAMEFUL BET, read the headline of the New York Times.
A video recorded secretly by a guest at the party had gone viral overnight, garnering over fifty million views. The footage showed Maxwell mocking Rachel, offering to marry her, and then showed her astounding, mesmerizing performance. The video ended with Maxwell breaking his word, refusing to honor his bet, and ordering her thrown out.
The internet was in an uproar. Social media was flooded with outrage. Thousands of people were calling for a total boycott of Anderson Real Estate developments. The stock price of the family's publicly traded holding company had already dropped by eight percent in pre-market trading.
"She played like a master!" Arthur shouted. "Do you have any idea who that girl actually is, you arrogant fool? The comments are filled with music critics from Berlin to Tokyo! They are saying she plays like Elena Vance!"
"Who the hell is Elena Vance?!" Maxwell yelled back, panic rising in his chest.
"The lost prodigy!" Arthur spat. "The daughter of the late billionaire music mogul Richard Vance! She vanished eight years ago! If that maid is Elena Vance, you just publicly humiliated the heiress to one of the most powerful media fortunes in the world on national television!"
Maxwell dropped the tablet onto his bed, his face completely pale. His mind reeled as the pieces of the puzzle suddenly fell into place—her striking green eyes, her regal grace, her effortless mastery of an impossible instrument. She wasn't an uneducated lower-class girl scrubbing floors for survival. She was music royalty.
Before Maxwell could process the horror of his mistake, his butler knocked frantically on his bedroom door and stepped inside without waiting.
"Sir!" the butler gasped, his face white as a sheet. "There are three armored black SUVs parked at our main gate. A gentleman is demanding to see you immediately."
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"Who is it?" Maxwell demanded, his hands trembling.
"He says his name is Julian Vance," the butler stammered. "And he brought six attorneys and the state police with him."
