The harsh, shrill sound of shouting echoed directly from the front marble staircase of the mansion.
Mark paused near the tall green boxwood hedge, his brow furrowing in instant confusion and deep concern.
He stepped closer into the shadow of the garden wall to see what was happening on the steps.
Standing at the top of the grand marble staircase was Victoria, dressed in a silk robe and dark sunglasses.
Her face was twisted into a sneer as she pointed a strict finger down at the lower steps.
Dragging two oversized black garbage bags down the hard stone was tiny ten-year-old Isabella.
The heavy plastic rasped loudly across the sharp edges of the stone stairs with every agonizing step.
Isabella wore a dusty pink dress that was torn near the hem and stained with dirty patches.
Her small shoulders trembled violently under the weight of the massive, bulging trash bags.
Victoria: Move faster, Isabella! You are completely useless!
Isabella: My arms are tired... please let me rest for a minute...
Victoria: You will not rest until every single bag is down at the curb!
Mark felt a cold wave of shock instantly freeze the blood inside his veins.
He saw his young daughter stumble, her tiny knees scraping against the unyielding stone step.
She let out a soft, pained whimper, but Victoria simply crossed her arms and scoffed callously.
Victoria: Do not cry front of me, you lazy little girl!
Victoria: Your father is not here to save you from doing real work today!
Mark felt a wave of protective fury burst inside his chest like a sudden thunderstorm.
He dropped his leather briefcase onto the soft grass without taking his eyes off the steps.
The woman he had trusted with his daughter's care was treating her like an abused laborer.
He sprinted out from behind the hedge wall onto the paved driveway with fast, heavy footsteps.