The bright luxury kitchen smelled of burning metal and sweet vanilla cookies.
Ten-month-old Toby crawled happily across the gleaming white marble floor in his bright yellow cotton sleeper, chuckling as he chased a rolling wooden toy car.
Near the stove, Victoria Vance stood in a royal blue embellished gown, her diamond necklace sparkling under the recessed ceiling lights.
Her manicured hand held an electric kitchen spatula, the heavy stainless steel plate glowing with orange, sizzling heat.
Victoria: Crawling right toward my designer heels like an unwanted mutt.
Victoria: Get out of my sight, you little pest!
Toby looked up with wide, innocent brown eyes, clapping his tiny hands together on the cool stone.
Victoria sneered, stepped behind the infant, and pressed the burning metal plate directly against the bare bottom of his right foot.
The sharp hiss of burning skin rose into the kitchen air, followed by an ear-splitting scream of pure agony from the infant.
Elena dropped her armload of laundry towels in the dining doorway, sprinting across the floor in her dark charcoal maid uniform.
Elena: You cruel monster! How could you burn a baby?!
Elena scooped the shrieking infant against her chest, her hands trembling as she wiped hot tears from Toby's pale, sweating face.
Victoria's eyes turned wild with fury as she snatched a heavy golden vase from the marble breakfast bar.
She swung the metal vase with full force, slamming it straight into Elena's temple with a sickening thud.
Crimson blood poured from the gash, streaming down Elena's cheek and soaking the collar of her white apron.
Elena: God save us...
Heavy footsteps shook the entrance hall as the grand double doors banged open against the wall.
Julian Sterling strode inside in a tailored charcoal navy suit, his leather briefcase freezing in his hand as he saw the blood on the tiles.
Julian: What is the meaning of this chaos?!
Victoria: Julian, thank God! She attacked me! The maid went completely insane!
Elena: She burned your baby's foot with a hot spatula!
Julian dropped to one knee, looking down at his son's blistered heel, totally unaware of the secret adoption papers hidden in the pantry.