Chapter 48 She Shall Pay with Her Life
Fortunately for Harper, she braced herself with her palms, narrowly avoiding a nasty fall.
"Are you Francis's wife?"
A slightly aged voice came from the head of the room.
Harper looked up to see a woman in her sixties sitting on a wolf skin sofa, her visage stern, her attire opulent.
Before she could reply, a gust of wind caught her unprepared.
"Smack, smack—!"
Two fierce slaps struck both of her cheeks.
Such was the force that Harper's face swelled up almost instantly.
"Not answering Grandma's question, you country bumpkin, no manners at all," said Amelia, blowing on her reddened hand as a venomous smirk played across her lips.
Anger flashed in Harper's eyes. She stood to return the favor, but before she could, the maid behind her suddenly drove her knee into the back of Harper's legs.
Unprepared, Harper lurched forward.
A 'crash' echoed through the room as a blue-and-white porcelain vase from the bench shattered into countless pieces.
"My god!" Amelia shrieked, accusingly pointing at Harper, "You wretch, you've broken Grandma's favorite vase."
Harper frowned, "It wasn't me."
Amelia let out a cold laugh, "With so many eyes here, you say it wasn't you?"
Harper stood tall, pointing at the maid beside her, her expression steely, "If she hadn't tripped me, I wouldn't have knocked over that vase."
Harper had a hunch Amelia had come prepared and knew she couldn't afford to slip up now.
The accused maid, shock written all over her face, protested, "Miss, I don't even know you. How can you pin this on me? You were the one trying to hit Miss Amelia and stumbled by yourself."
"Exactly, precisely," another maid chimed in.
With a sinister smile, Amelia commanded, "So many witnesses, and yet you dare to lie. Grab her and punish her until she admits her fault!"
No sooner had she spoken than the two maids moved to seize Harper.
Perhaps it was just her intuition, but Harper couldn't shake the feeling that Amelia's eyes were fixed on her belly as she issued the command.
'How did Amelia even find out I'm pregnant?
'But right now, I don't have time to dwell on it.'
"Don't touch me!" Harper snapped, jerking her arm away from a woman's grasp, her almond-shaped eyes narrowed, her voice sharp. "I'm married into the Getty family! I'm a guest at today's gathering. Lay a finger on me, and you'll have to answer to the Getty family!"
When push came to shove, invoking the prestige of the Getty family sure had its uses.
The two maids paused, hesitation flickering across their faces.
Seizing the moment, Harper steadied herself and continued, "And even if I did knock over that vase, I could easily afford to replace it ten times over! Touching me is equal to picking a fight with the Getty family. Can you handle the consequences?"
The maids faltered under her words. They stood frozen, glancing toward the family matriarch for guidance.
Whitney sat with a string of small-leaved red sandalwood beads twirling in her hand. Her face bore no hint of kindness as she spoke slowly and deliberately, "Brazen and rude, no wonder Francis has kept you from meeting me for so long. But it's fine. I'll teach you a lesson on his behalf today. You're about to learn what manners are!"
With a nod from Whitney, the two maids swiftly acted. One kicked Harper's shin, and she collapsed to the floor.
The other maid, without hesitation, slapped the back of Harper's head with such force that her head bowed, her mind reeling.
"Behave," the maid ordered tersely.
Amelia, standing behind Whitney, regards Harper with nothing but loathing. "Grandma, you don't understand. Francis never liked her. She tricked him into marriage using dirty schemes, and furthermore—"
Her gaze drifted contemptuously down to Harper's tattered hemline, eyes gleaming with a predatory glint.
"Look at her dress, it's torn. Who knows what disgusting things she's been up to during the party? You really ought to rein her in for Francis' sake!"
Whitney's wrinkled eyes narrowed into slits, and she commanded in a fierce tone, "Shameless! To do such things at my father-in-law's birthday celebration. Beat her. Beat her hard!"
No sooner had she spoken than another maid approached with a thick wooden stick as wide as an arm and stained with blood from previous beatings.
Harper's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you all insane? Resorting to lynching?"
'The stick is so thick. Even if I could withstand the beating, the child within me certainly could not!'
Whitney remained silent, but Amelia could hardly wait. She pointed at Harper, urging them on, "Well? Don't just stand there. Do it! Hit her hard!"
It was all a part of her carefully crafted scheme. She had been the one to push for Whitney's insistence on seeing Harper.
Then, she voiced her grievances to her mother in front of Whitney. Knowing Whitney's bias, it was clear that Amelia aimed to have Harper reprimanded. All she needed to do was present the accused to Whitney.
'But, what a surprise! That little wench is pregnant.
'It seems like providence is on my side. The baby dies with her. It's perfect. I don't believe that the Getty family would pin anything on Whitney.’
'At worst, I'll just pay off those two maids to take the fall,' Amelia contemplated.
Those maids were no strangers to dirty work, eyes gleaming as they raised their sticks to strike.
Harper kicked the maid's hand and said with an icy glare, "Intentional harm? Looks like you're itching for jail time."
'The vase and accusing me of being unfaithful are all just flimsy excuses.
'This roomful of people is hell-bent on framing me.
'Nothing I can say will change the outcome,' Harper mused.
But she couldn't give in. She locked eyes with the domineering Whitney and said, "Even if I'm at fault, you should inform Francis first. Let him decide!"
Whitney scoffed, her fingertips sending a string of beads flying toward Harper's forehead, coloring it a deep shade of purple.
When Whitney acted, no junior had the right to challenge her.
With the beads gone, Whitney's face twisted into a snarl. "Do it now!"
Emboldened by Whitney's command, the maids seized Harper. One lifted a stick high as if intent on crippling her with one blow.
Panicked, Harper cried out, "You can't do this to me! There's a child—"
"Silence her!" Amelia suddenly screamed, panic-stricken. "Gag her mouth now!"
'If we know she's pregnant and still go through with it, the Getty family will hold us responsible.
'Even Grandma might hesitate.
'After all, it's the blood of the Getty family,' Amelia thought.
Complying, the maid stuffed an apron in Harper's mouth.
Silenced, Harper struggled desperately, her muffled cries filling the room.
The maid raised the stick again, a grimace of cruelty on her face.
Tears streaked down Harper's cheeks as she closed her eyes in despair.
'Baby, I'm so sorry...’
'I swear I'll avenge you, no matter what,' Harper thought desperately.
Crash!
The door burst open.
"Stop!" A chilling voice commanded.
Hope glinted in Harper's eyes as she opened them, but the relentless maid showed no sign of stopping.
With a hardened resolve, she brought the stick down anyway—
She and Amelia had orchestrated this. The blow had to fall.
Harper lay immobilized, her eyes captive to terror as tears brimmed within them, helplessly watching the stick descending.
'Too late... It's too late... My baby...'
Thump—!
The dull thud of the stick impacting the body reverberated with chilling clarity.
Harper's entire body trembled from the shock.
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