Victoria: You’re bluffing! You don't have access to the private foyer feeds!
Ethan: Look up, Victoria. Just look straight up above the framed flag.
Victoria’s head snapped backward, her eyes searching the high white walls until they landed on a discreet, high-definition dome security camera mounted right on the ceiling line. Directly in the center of the dark glass lens, a bright, solid red recording indicator light was glowing continuously, emitting a faint, steady electronic hum.
Ethan: The cameras recorded everything you did! Every word, every swing, every single threat!
Victoria: No... no, that feed goes straight to the master study hard drive!
Ethan: It streams directly to my personal cloud server, Mother. It’s been saving every second to a secure legal database in real time.
Clara: She confessed, Ethan... she said she paid off the probate judge...
Ethan: I heard every word through the audio receiver on my phone while I was pulling into the driveway.
Victoria’s face drained of color, the triumphant arrogance vanishing entirely as she scrambled to her feet, her maroon dress catching on her high heels. She backed away toward the grand staircase, her hands shaking violently as she stared at her son’s hardened expression.
Victoria: Ethan... please, you’re my son! You can't use that video against me!
Ethan: I am Clara’s husband first! And the father of the child you just endangered!
Victoria: I did all of this for you! To protect our family inheritance from outsiders!
Ethan: Clara is not an outsider! She is Dad’s legitimate daughter, and she is my wife!
Victoria: She came here to destroy us! She wants to take the company public and sell off the mansion!
Ethan: She came here to get her father’s medical documents so we could prove his cause of death!
Victoria gasped, taking another step backward against the white wall, right beneath the framed American flag artwork. Her eyes darted toward the double front doors as if calculating her chances of running out to her luxury car parked in the driveway.
Ethan: Don't even think about running. The Dallas Sheriff's Department is already on their way.
Victoria: You called the police on your own mother?!
Ethan: I called them the moment I saw the live video stream on my phone ten minutes ago.
Clara: Ethan... she said she forged the will... she admitted to hiding the trust fund documents...
Ethan: I have the original will right here in my tuxedo pocket, Clara. The one Dad signed before he was moved to the hospice unit.
Ethan pulled a folded, official legal document bearing a gold notary seal from inside his tuxedo jacket, holding it up in the bright light of the foyer.
Victoria: That’s impossible! I burned that document in the study fireplace!
Ethan: You burned a photocopy, Mother. Dad gave the original to his real lawyer three years ago, with instructions to release it to me when Clara returned to Dallas.