Clara retreated quickly down the wide hallway and backed straight into the master bedroom space.
The large four-poster wooden bed stood near the center under the bright crystal chandelier fixture.
A large United States flag hung proudly on the accent wall behind the grand wooden bed frame.
Mark followed her into the room and kicked the heavy bedroom door shut behind his heels.
He dropped his leather briefcase onto the polished light marble flooring with a heavy thud sound.
Mark: You are my wife, Clara, and you will not disrespect me like this!
Clara: I saw the default letters from the court bank in your desk drawer, Mark.
Mark froze for a brief second before stepping even closer, unbuckling his black leather dress belt.
He pulled the belt free from his trouser loops and snapped it tightly between his hands.
The loud leather sound echoed off the high bright white walls of the luxury bedroom space.
Clara stumbled backward, tripping over her dress hem and falling heavily onto the marble floor.
She huddled against the wooden bed frame, wrapping her arms tightly across her frightened chest.
A red scrape mark was visible on her forearm where she had grazed the sharp bed corner.
Clara: Stay away from me! Do not touch me!
Mark: You think you can ruin my business standing and just walk out free?
Mark stood over her, his shadow blocking out the bright daylight coming through the windows.
He raised the rolled leather belt near his side, his face filled with cold intimidation.
Mark: You will sign those trust papers today whether you like it or not!
Clara held her breath, looking up with tears streaming down her pale flushed cheeks.
Clara: My father knows where I am...
Mark: Your father cannot save you from your legal obligations as my wife!
The heavy bedroom door sudden rattled violently from a strong force hitting the brass handle outside.