Isabella turned around, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Mia's simple uniform. She raised her glass of champagne with a cold smile.
Isabella: Why is a waitress standing in my personal circle?
Before Mia could speak, her tray bumped slightly against a guest's arm. A few drops of water spilled onto the hem of Isabella's blue gown. Isabella's face twisted into pure fury. She raised her right hand and delivered a hard, stinging slap directly across Mia's face.