The crystal chandeliers of the Sterling estate cast a brilliant glare across the marble floor of the grand ballroom. Hundreds of wealthy guests in pristine tuxedos and designer gowns clinked champagne glasses, their laughter echoing off the high ceilings. At the center of the room stood Arthur Sterling, looking down at his seven-year-old son, Toby, who was fidgeting nervously in a stiff beige suit.

Arthur: Stand up straight, Toby. The entire board of directors is watching us tonight.

Toby: My shoes hurt, Daddy. And I want to go upstairs.

Arthur: You will stay right here. Tonight is about showing this city who runs the Sterling estate.

Arthur adjusted his silk tie and smiled for the photographers, completely ignoring the tears gathering in his son's eyes. Across the room, three wealthy socialites in sparkling silver gowns crouched down toward the boy, waving their manicured hands to get his attention.

Evelyn: Come here, darling! Come show everyone your handsome little suit!

Victoria: Isn't he just precious? Arthur, he looks just like a little prince!

Toby: I don't want to show anyone! I want to leave!

Toby's voice cracked, a single sob breaking through the polite hum of the party. Arthur reached down, his grip tightening around the boy's shoulder as his face darkened.

Arthur: Stop making a scene, Toby. Look at these ladies and smile right now.

Toby: No! Let go of me!

Toby snatched his arm away, tears spilling down his freckled cheeks. He backed away from his father, his eyes searching the room frantically until they locked onto a woman standing near the service doors near the back of the hall. She wore a simple black dress and a crisp white apron, holding a silver tray loaded with discarded glasses.

Toby: Mommy!

The entire ballroom went silent as the young heir turned his back on the crowd and ran across the polished floor toward the staff exit.

Arthur: Toby! Get back here this instant!

Toby didn't stop. He sprinted past the shocked guests, his small dress shoes squeaking on the marble until he threw his arms around the maid's waist. The silver tray slipped from her hands, crashing to the floor with a deafening rattle as glasses shattered across the tiles. The maid gasped, dropping to her knees and pulling the crying boy tightly into her arms.

Toby: This is wrong, Mommy! Don't let him hide you anymore!

Arthur froze in the middle of the hall, the color draining completely from his face as hundreds of eyes shifted from the child to the woman in the apron.