Mark: What live feed?! What are you talking about, Clara?!
Clara: Do you see that small black ornament on the bookshelf behind your father?
Eleanor turned her head quickly, her eyes widening as she spotted a tiny, high-definition camera resting between two leather-bound books.
Eleanor: What is that deviceDoing in my dining room?!
Clara: I placed it there when I helped set the table an hour ago. I knew you were planning to bully me tonight, Mark. But I didn't expect you to physically attack me.
Mark: You crazy bitch! You recorded me?!
Mark lunged forward to grab the phone out of Clara's hand, but she ducked swiftly to the side, letting go of her purse and stepping away from the dining table.
Clara: It's not just recorded, Mark. It was streamed directly to a secure cloud server and my family's legal team!
Eleanor: Your legal team?! You're a middle-school English teacher! You don't have a legal team!
Clara: My father is Jonathan Miller, Mrs. Sterling. Senior partner at Miller & Vance Criminal Defense.
The entire room went dead silent. Arthur dropped his wine glass, letting it shatter against the hardwood floor. Eleanor’s face drained of all color, her hand flying to her mouth.
Arthur: Jonathan Miller...? The top trial lawyer in the city?!
Clara: The very same. I used my mother's maiden name when I met Mark because I wanted to find someone who cared about me, not my father's money or influence.
Mark: You... you lied to me about who you were?!
Clara: I didn't lie about anything. I am a teacher, and I live in my own apartment. But my family happens to own the law firm that currently handles your father's corporate litigation.
Eleanor: Oh my god... Arthur, isn't Miller's firm handling our company's merger next week?!
Arthur: Yes! They represent our entire board of directors!
Clara: Not anymore, Mr. Sterling. My father canceled your retainer contract ten minutes ago when he watched your son dump a hot platter of food on my head.
Mark took a step back, his rage instantly evaporating into pure panic. He looked at his hands, covered in dark gravy, and then looked at Clara's stained red hair.
Mark: Clara... babe, wait. I was just stressed out! I didn't mean to burn you!
Clara: Don't call me babe. You showed your true colors tonight, Mark.
Mark: It was a mistake! Please, tell your father not to pull out of the merger! We will lose millions!
Clara: You should have thought about that before you raised that platter.
Before Mark could plead any further, loud siren wails echoed outside the mansion's high iron gates. Flashing red and blue lights illuminated the grand stained-glass windows of the dining room.
Eleanor: Are those... are those police sirens?!
Clara: I told you. The stream went straight to the police precinct. I filed a report for domestic assault and battery while you were busy yelling at me.
Mark: You called the cops on your own fiancé?!
Clara: You are not my fiancé anymore, Mark. You are an abuser, and you are going to pay for what you did.