Chapter 2: The Chairman’s Bow
Everyone turned.
An elderly man in a black suit stood on the staircase, his silver hair shining beneath the chandeliers. Behind him were assistants and security guards.
David’s face lost all color.
“Chairman Whitmore…”
Richard Whitmore, owner of the Whitmore Royal Hotel Group, walked slowly down the stairs. His eyes passed over Madison, Victoria, and the broken glass on the floor.
Then they stopped on Clara.
Victoria tightened her lips. “Chairman, this waitress caused trouble for my daughter. We were only asking her to correct her mistake.”
Richard did not answer.
His gaze fixed on Clara’s shoulder, where Victoria’s rough grip had pulled the collar of her uniform slightly aside. Near Clara’s collarbone was a small brown birthmark, shaped almost like a broken rose petal.
Richard’s body stiffened.
For a moment, the powerful hotel chairman looked as if he had seen a ghost.
He stepped closer.
Clara quickly pulled her collar back into place. “Sir, I’m sorry. I’ll clean everything.”
Richard’s voice trembled. “What is your name?”
“Clara Miller.”
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
Richard closed his eyes. When he opened them again, tears had gathered there.
Then, in front of every guest in the lobby, he bowed deeply to the poor waitress.
“I am sorry, Young Miss.”
The entire hotel fell silent.
Madison’s mouth opened in shock. Victoria’s face turned white. David looked as if his legs might collapse.
Clara stared at Richard, confused and frightened.
“Young Miss?” she whispered.
Richard lifted his head.
“We have been searching for you for eighteen years.”
Clara shook her head. “There must be a mistake. I’m only a waitress.”
Richard looked at the crowd and spoke with a voice that shook the walls.
“No. You are not only a waitress.”
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He paused.
“You are the true heir of Whitmore Royal.”
