Arthur stood inside the marble foyer of his large estate while snow fell gently past the windows outside.
His eight-year-old daughter Lily sat on the leather sofa, holding a small golden photo frame very closely.
The mansion felt far too cold despite the burning fireplace that crackled soft warmth across the room.
Ever since Arthur married Victoria six months ago, the once happy house seemed filled with sharp tension.
Victoria walked down the grand curved staircase with quick heavy steps that echoed across the high ceilings.
She adjusted her designer silk scarf while giving a cold glance toward the little girl on the couch.
Victoria: Why is she still clutching that dusty old picture in the living room?
Arthur: That photo belonged to her mother, Victoria.
Victoria: We need modern decor in this house if we want to host wealthy guests.
Arthur: Her memories of her late mother will always stay in this home.
Arthur had built a huge financial consulting firm from nothing over twenty long years of hard work.
He wanted to give Lily every comfort in the world after her mother passed away three years ago.
When he met Victoria at a charity gala, she appeared soft, kind, and deeply caring toward his young daughter.
Yet as soon as the marriage certificate was signed, her warm attitude vanished into cold distant demands.
She spent massive sums of money from their joint checking account on rare jewelry and luxury European trips.
Whenever Arthur asked about her spending, she claimed she was building social connections for his business firm.
Lily: Daddy, can we go visit Grandma in Vermont this weekend?
Arthur: Of course sweetheart, we can pack our bags right after dinner tonight.
Victoria: You cannot leave this weekend because my sister is visiting from New York.
Arthur: We already made plans with my mother weeks ago, Victoria.
Victoria folded her arms tightly across her chest while her eyes narrowed in deep annoyance at him.
She turned on her heel and marched upstairs toward the master bedroom, slamming the heavy wooden door shut.
Arthur sat down next to his daughter and placed a gentle hand over her small trembling shoulder.
He could tell something was wrong, but the young child refused to speak about her new stepmother.
The nanny, Martha, watched from the kitchen doorway with a worried look across her wrinkled face.
Martha had worked for the family for ten years and knew every habit of the young girl.
Martha: Sir, you should check the trust fund papers in your office upstairs.
Arthur: Is there something wrong with the estate files, Martha?
Martha: Just take a look at the desk drawer before you leave for Vermont.
Arthur stood up slowly as a deep feeling of unease began to stir inside his chest.
He walked up the grand staircase toward his private home office located at the far end hallway.
The lock on his top desk drawer looked slightly scratched, as if someone tried to pick it open.
He unlocked it with his silver key and noticed several important financial folders were completely missing today.
Those folders contained Lily's inheritance records and the legal title to the entire Boston property estate.
Arthur felt his blood run cold as he realized someone was secretly digging through his legal papers.