The crystal chandeliers in the estate dining hall cast sharp shadows across the polished white marble. Near the window, two-year-old Toby sat strapped into his white high chair, his small hands clutching the plastic tray while violent sobs shook his chest.
Above him hovered Victoria, dressed in a sparkling green sequin gown, her face twisted in a cold, venomous glare.
Victoria: Stop your screaming right now, you miserable little pest.
Victoria: Nobody in this mansion cares about your crying, and nobody is coming to save you.
Toby let out another high-pitched wail, tears streaming over a dark, swollen purple bruise that covered his left eye and cheekbone.
The heavy kitchen doors swung open, and Clara stepped into the dining hall wearing her light blue silk robe.
Her gaze swept across the floor, and her mouth dropped open in complete horror as she saw her son’s bruised face.
Clara: No! My baby! What did you do?
Victoria: Watch your tone with me, Clara.
Clara: What happened to his eye?! Did you touch my child?!
Victoria: The clumsy brat fell off his booster cushion while I was reaching for my coffee.
Clara: He is strapped into a five-point harness! He couldn't have fallen!
Clara sprinted across the marble floor, her silk robe fluttering as she threw herself in front of the high chair.
Her hands shook violently as she unbuckled the plastic straps and lifted the sobbing toddler into her arms.
Clara: Mommy’s here, nobody will ever hurt you again.
Clara: Shh, baby, look at Mommy. You are safe now.
Victoria: Put him back down. I was trying to teach him basic table manners before the family lunch.
Clara: You struck a two-year-old child across the face, Victoria!
Victoria: Keep your voice down, or I will have estate security throw you out onto the street.
The massive front double doors at the end of the grand hall suddenly burst open with a deafening crash.
Standing beneath a huge American flag mounted on the high wall was Arthur Vance, the billionaire patriarch, his grey suit immaculate and his eyes blazing with fury.
Arthur: You crossed the line in this house!
He marched down the center aisle, but Victoria had no idea the document in his leather briefcase was about to destroy her entire life.