Mark carried the kids upstairs into their colorful sunlit playroom at the end of the hall.
He sat them down on the soft plush rug surrounded by their favorite wooden toy trains.
Mark: I want you two to play quietly in here while I talk to Sarah.
Toby: Is she going to be mad at us again, Daddy?
Mark: No, Toby, nobody is going to scream at you ever again in this house.
Mark closed the playroom door gently and walked down the long carpeted hallway toward his office.
He needed to collect his thoughts before facing the woman he had married two years ago.
Sarah had seemed like the perfect caring stepmother when they first met after his wife passed.
She was charming, elegant, and always spoke softly around his wealthy business friends and family.
But over the past six months, small red flags had begun appearing all around the estate.
The nanny had unexpectedly quit three weeks ago without offering any clear or reasonable explanation.
The housekeepers had stopped smiling whenever Sarah walked into the large gourmet kitchen area.
Mark sat down at his polished cherry desk and pulled out his private personal cell phone.
He dialed the private number of his longtime family estate lawyer, Richard Vance, right away.
Richard: Hello Mark, what can I do for you on a Thursday afternoon?
Mark: Richard, I need you to come to the house immediately with legal documents.
Richard: Is something wrong with the family trust fund accounts?
Mark: Something is wrong with my marriage, and I need emergency custody protection papers drawn up.
Richard: I will gather the necessary paperwork and be at your mansion in thirty minutes.
Mark hung up the phone and leaned his head back against the leather high-back chair.
He remembered how Sarah had insisted on managing the home budget and staff schedules herself.
He opened his locked desk drawer and pulled out the recent credit statements he rarely checked.
Large cash withdrawals had been made consistently over the last four consecutive months from their account.
Thousands of dollars had been transferred to an unknown offshore holding company in the Bahamas.
Mark: What have you been doing behind my back, Sarah?
Mark stood up from his desk and walked straight toward the master bedroom suit doors.
He knocked firmly on the solid wood surface three times without waiting for an answer.
He pushed the double doors open and saw Sarah hastily packing a leather designer suitcase.
Sarah: What do you think you are doing barging into my room like this?
Mark: I am asking you to explain those cash transfers on our monthly bank statement.
Sarah: I do not have to explain my personal spending habits to you, Mark!
Mark: That money belongs in the children's trust fund, not your personal offshore account!
Sarah stopped packing and turned around with a cold, mocking smile on her face.
Sarah: You really think you are so smart, don't you, big man?