Chapter 255: Slander

Maggie had always been wary of Beth, never believing a woman who saw her as a love rival would harbor any good intentions.

Initially, seeing Beth standing motionless, Maggie relaxed her guard, only to notice something amiss with the passing waiter. His tray held not wine glasses, but two empty ones. Without drinks to replenish, he had no reason to go upstairs; he should have gone downstairs to replace them.

As this realization dawned, the waiter abruptly turned, discarded his tray, and violently shoved her.

With quick reflexes, Maggie braced herself against the stair railing and dodged aside.

The attacker hadn't anticipated her alertness. Missing his target, he tumbled headfirst down the stairs.

"Urghhh!"

A scream followed as the waiter crashed to the ground, rolling several times before stopping on the carpet. Onlookers, visibly shaken, gasped.

Maggie retreated two steps, glancing down. The commotion attracted a large crowd. She stood firm, clutching the railing, breaking out in a cold sweat. Had the waiter succeeded, she couldn't imagine the severity of her injuries. However, in her haste, she re-twisted her ankle.

Speechless, she cursed her luck. From where she stood, she saw the fallen waiter—a young man, probably in his early twenties—his face scraped from the fall. His forehead slammed against the stair's edge; blood trickled down, staining the dark brown carpet in a chilling pattern resembling dark red flowers.

"What happened? It looks like a waiter fell from upstairs!" someone exclaimed.

"Is he dead? There's so much blood!"

"Get a doctor! Doesn't the hotel have a first-aid station?"

"Why did he fall like that? Isn't that the Camerons' adopted daughter?"

Murmurs of speculation arose. Looking up, they saw Maggie at the top of the stairs. Her eyes reflected her anger at the failed attempt. Maggie was indeed sharp. Beth had hoped the fall would sabotage Maggie's relationship with Nathael. Surprisingly, Maggie had skillfully avoided the attack.

Nathael, negotiating with Orson's son, looked up to see a crowd gathered at the bottom of the stairs, with Maggie standing pale-faced by the second-floor railing.

"Excuse me," Nathael said, walking briskly to the fallen man. He frowned. "Alex."

"Understood, Mr. Harris," Alex replied, checking the waiter's breath before reassuring the onlookers. "He's going to be okay."

As the hotel doctor arrived, Alex stepped aside. Nathael didn't wait for the outcome; he went to Maggie. He steadied her, asking quietly, "What happened?"

Maggie glanced back and saw Beth leaving via another staircase. "Beth warned me. She thought I didn't understand, and she believes I'm carrying your child. Then that waiter tried to push me down the stairs, but I dodged him."

Observing the waiter's bloody face, Nathael envisioned the danger. Glancing down, he saw Beth in the crowd. Their eyes met. His gaze darkened, a hint of murderous intent lurking within.

Beth felt a sudden tightness in her chest, fear and unease surging within. No, she thought, Nathael wouldn't believe her. The waiter's attempt had nothing to do with her. Even if Maggie tried to frame her, there was no evidence.

"How's your foot?" Nathael knelt, gently squeezing her swollen ankle. His brow furrowed. "The swelling seems worse; I'll get someone to bring you flats."

Maggie didn't refuse; the high heels were uncomfortable. She had only planned to appear briefly and wait for Nathael's pleasantries with Orson. Then, the accident occurred.

From the crowd below, a voice announced, "He's awake! He seems fine!"

After receiving flats and changing shoes, Maggie heard commotion downstairs. Looking down, she saw a tall waiter being supported by a doctor, slowly rising. The bleeding had stopped. He seemed to have a fractured arm, but his injuries weren't serious.

Orson's son and the hotel manager rushed over. The manager asked solemnly, "Ben, what happened? Are you badly hurt? How could you be so careless as to fall and disturb our esteemed guests?"

Maggie scrutinized the waiter. Ben was tall and ordinary-looking, with average features, slightly long, unkempt hair, poor hair quality, and dark circles under his eyes.

Ben glanced at Beth, clenched his teeth, and declared, "I was going downstairs for more wine when someone pushed me!" He looked directly at Maggie.

No one expected his answer. All eyes followed his gaze. Only the stern-faced Nathael and a woman in a white dress remained at the top of the stairs.

The manager paused, warning, "Think carefully. We have VIPs here. Are you sure you didn't twist your ankle? Don't speak rashly!"

Ben lowered his gaze. "Someone pushed me. Otherwise, I wouldn't have fallen headfirst."

The manager's expression soured. He wanted to downplay the incident, but it was difficult under the watchful eyes of the crowd.

Orson's son broke the silence. "Why would anyone push you? Did you see who it was?"

Ben pondered. "I'm not sure, but it looked likethat lady." He looked meaningfully at Maggie.

The guests began to discuss. Some found his accusation baseless; others believed his injuries; the fall was too dangerous to fake.